Grisaille
by GrisailleDreams
Summary: What do a television, a high-security vault, and interdimensional travel have in common? And why does Koenma want his hands on them? The gang doesn't know, but they're going to find out, thanks to the strange owner of a mysterious mansion in the middle of nowhere. Kurama/OC, rated T for language; this may get bumped up later in the story.
1. Breaking and Entering

" _Damn_ …"

Yusuke's hand was pressed against the cool glass of the car window as he stared out. The two peaks of this particular mountain range did a particularly impeccable job of hiding the valley from view until you really entered it. That's when you could see the architectural marvel that was the mansion.

It wasn't a particularly _beautiful_ building, as it was quite boxy and made of a drab, grey brick covered in ivy, but the sheer size of the damn thing was what took the breath away. The yard, both front and back, could have given Genkai's land a run for its money. Gardens, overgrown, wild, and in a full, gorgeous bloom, covered everything. An orchard stretched out across a quarter of the valley, and the team saw fat, pink peaches dotting many of the trees.

"How big _is_ this place?" Kuwabara mumbled. Since he was driving, he could only catch brief glimpses.

Kurama checked the file in his lap. "The mansion proper is something like seventy-thousand square feet in living space."

"What rich bitch _built this_?" Yusuke asked, crossing his arms. "I didn't know anyone actually _had_ that kind of money."

"It's from the early nineteenth century," Botan put in from the back, "Built by an American immigrant who'd made his fortune in the railroad industry. It remained in his family until about ten years ago, and then his granddaughter passed away."

The car stopped, suddenly. "What's the problem?" Botan asked. Kuwabara raised a shaking hand and pointed out the window.

"Are…" He blanched. "Are those alligators?"

Everyone looked out the window: before them was a short bridge that sat over a deep, water-filled trench that seemed to run along the entirety of the road. They just hadn't been paying that much attention to it. It was dark and murky, and a few logs were floating about in the surface. Except, upon further inspection, they weren't logs. One of the alligators seemed to be peering up at Kurama, eyeballing him and the car like it was trying to decide if attacking was worthwhile. This was what they had to cross in order to reach the mile-long driveway.

"Just go slow," Kurama said calmly, "We'll be fine."

As Kuwabara rode the brake over the little bridge, he caught sight of another gator in his rearview mirror. It snapped angrily at his bumper, and he shoved the gas pedal to the floor, leaving the creature behind as fast as he could.

"Who the hell seriously keeps an alligator-filled moat?!" Yusuke grumbled. "That's so weird."

"They were imported," Kurama said darkly. "They certainly aren't found in Japan. There are some species that are native to China, but that's still three thousand kilometers away."

"I'm getting a bad feeling, guys," Kuwabara said softly.

Botan frowned, worried. "We'll be fine." It sounded like she was trying to convince herself just as much as the others.

Kurama frowned, looking at the mansion again. "Is Koenma quite sure it's abandoned?"

"Pretty sure…" Botan replied. But then she saw what he was looking at as they passed: one of the fountains in the front lawn was running. "That's why we're having you boys look into it. Just in case."

Koenma, more vague than usual, had sent the gang out on their latest mission out to the middle of the countryside in Kyushu. They were well outside of any town, city, or village, and had to take two or three trains just to get to the island. Their destination was so out of the way that they had to pick up a rental car, travelling for two and a half hours on a lonely, dirt road that wound its way through the landscape. On one hand, it was hard to believe that anyone would _want_ to build a house so far out of the way of civilization. On the other, though, it was the perfect place to be if one didn't want to be disturbed. Because of its isolation, Reikai had a hard time finding much information about whether or not it was inhabited. And, for whatever reason, Koenma wanted it. He hadn't explained why, and if Botan knew, she wasn't telling.

"Don't park by the garage," Kurama advised as they continued down. Kuwabara nodded and stopped short of the front door by a few hundred feet.

They all got out of the car, and it was like they were in the middle of a nature preserve. The most immediate sounds were those of… peacocks? A white peahen poked her head out of one of the hedges lining the outer wall of the mansion, and led a clutch of seven babies out with her. She kept clear of the intruders, waddling along quickly to herd her young to a mass of berry bushes, where they faded into the undergrowth.

"Think they're pets?" Kuwabara asked.

"Probably."

Hiei stepped off the ledge of a second-story window and landed neatly among his companions. His permafrown didn't betray anything but his usual annoyance.

Kurama quirked a brow. "What did you see?" he asked.

"No obvious signs of human occupants, yet," Hiei replied casually, hands in his pockets. "But the wildlife around here doesn't exactly act wild."

Suddenly, Yusuke burst into laughter. He was doubled over in front of the large, oak doors, pointing wildly at the twin brass knockers that were in the shape of bored-looking camel heads, each mouth holding a large ring.

"Wh-who-" Yusuke cackled, face turning red, "Who decided _that_ was a good decision?!"

Comical as they were, they were too out-of-place, Kurama thought. He cautiously approached them, inspecting everything carefully. Yes, they were newer installments than the doors, probably less than a decade old. Someone had changed something after the last owner died.

Kuwabara let out a sharp yell and threw himself on the ground, and a pair of arrows came shooting out at him from either side. Yusuke and Kurama ducked out of the way as they missed their targets, and suddenly everyone was on their guard.

"Botan!" Yusuke called, "Stay in the car!"

"Right-o!" she agreed in a sing-song voice, and the car door slammed shut.

"What did you do?" Hiei snapped.

Kuwabara scrambled back to his feet. "I don't know!" he cried, "I was tryin' to look through the window and then my foot sunk down and I heard a _click_ -"

"And you set off a trap," Kurama finished.

"Well," Yusuke grumbled, "Looks like breaking in should be a lot of fun."

"Now that we know," Kurama said, "It shouldn't be too bad."

"Just keep your eyes peeled, you'll be fine," Hiei said simply. He shrugged and drove his sword through the crack between the two doors. Swiftly sliding it down, intending to cut open the locks, he grunted irritably when it stuck. "What is this?" he growled, bringing the sword up and doing it again. Once more, the blade stuck. One of the camel heads let out a weird, growling roar that sounded a little like a stalling car, but it was like it was laughing at Hiei.

"Come, Hiei," Kurama suggested gently, "I'm sure there's more than one way to get in."

"It's mocking me."

"I know."

They split up into two teams: Kurama and Kuwabara, Yusuke and Hiei. While the latter pair snuck around the back ("to avoid that vile thing," Hiei had justified, glowering at the knocker) to try to find a different way inside, agreeing that merely shattering a window wasn't the best idea, Kurama stayed and pondered the front door. His eyes looked up. There was a balcony on the fourth floor that housed what looked like two or three satellite dishes. It could be worth looking at.

"I'll be right back," Kurama said, still considering the balcony. "You stay here and keep an eye out." He flashed a smile at Kuwabara. "And try not to set off any more traps."

"Yeah, can it, Kurama," Kuwabara grumbled, "Just get going."

Kurama pulled the rose from his hair, turning it into the whip he generally favored. It was easy enough to hook it around the wrought-iron gate, and he used it as a climbing rope to scale the front of the mansion, hands easily avoiding the thorns. He only paused briefly to look into the windows he passed: all he could see were dim hallways, lined with doors. Here and there, he could see dusty rugs and the occasional piece of art, but those didn't mean anything. He was pleased to see that the doors into the top floor were large and made of glass, flanked by those satellites. Up close, they definitely weren't for television.

He gave the door a cursory glance to make sure there weren't any traps waiting for him on the inside: it looked like an attic, full of the most random assortment of items. Many large objects were covered in white sheets, hiding their true nature, but he caught sight of a hung-up skeleton and a suit of armor shoved in a corner, along with a large box that had illegible scribblings in black marker. The one next to it simply said "Janet." A trophy case, a dress form that was swathed in a dress made of a beige-green, scaly material, a pile of sports gear… The list kept going. There was a single door on this floor, leading to, he assumed, the rest of the mansion. Opposite from that was a massive safe with three tiny keyholes in its face.

Kurama felt the familiar itch to break it open. The size of the thing suggested that the security as a whole was more complex than a handful of keys. But, he squashed the feeling down. Later, maybe, if the current mission was successful. For now, he settled with opening the door. The first thing he noticed was a large, steel beam, only a few inches thick, barring it. Assuming it wasn't bolted into place, it shouldn't be too hard to open.

"Hey!" Kuwabara called up. "Got anything yet, Fox Boy?"

He leaned over the rail. "Maybe. Give me another minute."

Okay, what else? From what he'd seen so far, there had to be something else to the attic door. A regular keyhole, no surprise there. He closed his eyes to concentrate on his other senses. There was the faintest hum. Was the door electrified? He reached into his pocket and pulled out a spare coin, flicking it at the glass. It bounced back at his face three times harder than he'd tossed it with a _zap_! Yep. Electrified, he thought, neatly dodging the coin, and enhanced so that it would throw back anything aimed to smash it. A rock would be devastating to a hopeful intruder. Kurama decided that it would be better to wait and see if the others found an easier point of access. He used the rose whip to climb back down.

"Well?" Kuwabara pressed as Kurama landed. "Got anything?"

"It's a 'Plan B' entrance," Kurama admitted. "I'd rather not deal with it unless we have to."

"It's a good thing we've got something." Yusuke was jogging around the corner, waving at his friends. "Found a storm cellar, looks like it'll go inside. It was an easy open."

"Excellent."

It was a pair of wooden doors mounted almost parallel to the ground on the side of the house, flung open by Hiei and Yusuke. It was dark down there. Kuwabara made some grunting comment about it, but otherwise let it go. Kurama was the last to go down, using caution on the stone steps. They were rough, uneven and probably as old as the mansion, itself, with foot-shaped dents worn away into their centers that made them easy to slip on if one didn't hit them just right. As he descended, the air became chilly and started smelling like oak. He saw the outline of two large barrels. They were probably filled with wine, from the stench of it. As his eyes adjusted (faster than poor Kuwabara's, who kept bumping into walls), he saw a large wine rack filled with bottles and against the wall.

"There wouldn't happen to be a light switch, would there?" Kuwabara asked, yowling as he stubbed his toe on something else.

"Wait- I think- yeah, got it."

Yusuke must have found it, because the lights suddenly flickered into life. The cellar looked warmer than it felt, and it was much smaller than Kurama had anticipated. Unless… yes, that was it. Five doors. There was the missing floor space.

"Holy crap."

Yusuke had opened the largest door, heavy and metal with several warning signs tacked onto it. Corrosive materials, possible x-ray exposure, radioactivity, " _Martha didn't wear goggles in the lab, now she doesn't have to-"_

Kurama poked his head in and took a step back. A full-sized laboratory? Machines and work benches, desks with complicated-looking computers, boxes of random mechanical parts, and a float-tank that held a grey figure about the size of a football, with nubs where limbs might be on a human embryo. A black spot where the eye would go was staring, unseeing, straight at him. Slowly, he closed the door.

"Let's leave that room alone, shall we?" he suggested.

"Why?" Kuwabara asked, "What's in it?"

"Nothing I care about," Hiei snapped. "Let's get this stupid mission finished with."

They checked the other rooms: two bathrooms, a small storage closet, and a workout center. It was much warmer, more comfortable in the separate rooms. Still, nothing of interest, so they pressed onward up the stairs. Yusuke took the point position with Kurama following.

"Find anything up front?" Yusuke asked quietly.

"A door that punches back," Kurama replied casually, "But nothing too serious. What about you? Was there anything else besides the cellar?"

"A vegetable patch. And more peacocks."

Glancing down, Kurama saw a thin, red laser crossing the step he was about to take. At the last second, he hopped over it, hoping Yusuke had seen it.

"Watch it," he warned the two trailing behind him.

"Wha-?" Kuwabara looked down, his foot hovering inches above the laser. He blanched. "Tell me you didn't step on it!" he nervously demanded.

Yusuke was pulling a face, and Kurama sighed. Of course he had. Kurama held his hands up, signaling to the others to be quiet so that he could listen. No alarms were going off, and he didn't see anything else to indicate they'd activated a trap or triggered the security system.

"Huh…" Kuwabara grunted, scratching the back of his neck. "Guess the alarm must be broken."

Kurama touched a finger to his lips thoughtfully. "Perhaps."

They continued and the stairs led up into another small room that only had two doors. They only checked the one, because the first they opened led directly into a kitchen. It was spacious and clean, and while it had clearly been built over a century ago, it had been since updated. There was even a pasta arm attached to the sink, as well as a well-used, worn coffee machine.

"Signs of life?" Hiei asked Kurama quietly.

"Maybe." Kurama looked around cautiously. "We definitely ought to check."

"Let's spread out," Yusuke suggested. "Everyone take a room, we'll move up the floors together."

Kurama meandered into a room much like a game parlour, just off the kitchen: there was a card table, chess set, a cabinet full of dust-covered board games, a grand piano, and two couches positioned haphazardly around a magnificent, marble fireplace that stood out well against the creamy-colored walls and floor. There was still charred wood inside, and something glinting in the light, lodged within the seam of the stone hearth and the carpet. He crouched down and pried it out. It was a piece of sharp, blackened, broken glass. At this level, he could see more of it in the back corners of the firebox. Maybe something had shattered inside?

He heard a yelp from across the hall, and darted into a huge living room to see Yusuke standing behind a large bar, clutching his smoking hand. He was glaring incredulously down at the counter. "What the _hell,_ man?!" he shouted.

"Urameshi?" Kuwabara slid into the room, followed (slowly) by Hiei. "What happened?"

"The damn thing bit me!" Yusuke growled. "I was looking for a key to the liquor cabinet and the damn thing bit me!"

"Burned you, more like," Kurama corrected with a faint smile.

Hiei was inspecting the underside of the bar and smirked. "You idiot," he laughed. "There's a fingerprint scanner next to a blowtorch."

It was true: there was a blowtorch jury-rigged to a thin, black panel that was actually an ultrasonic fingerprint scanner. No lights or lasers to alert someone of its presence if they didn't know it was already there. The torch itself was duct-taped to the counter, and the trigger had some odd construct made of thin strips of wood rubber-banded to it. This connected it to the fingerprint scanner.

What kind of people lived in this place, before?

Blowing on his hand, Yusuke grimaced. "Can't we just tell Koenma this place is uninhabitable and to have someone else come in to clear out all the traps?"

"You'll have to ask Botan about that-"

"Who are you?"

They all turned, startled, by the young woman who was casually making her way down the dark-stained stairs out in the foyer. Long, auburn hair was caught up in a high ponytail, and her green eyes were squinting down at them as if she'd just awoken. Her clothes, though expensive-looking and fancy, were rumpled enough to say the same. Frowning, she rubbed blearily at her face, inadvertently drawing attention to a thick, black tattoo under her left eye, and stifled a yawn, stopping at the foot of the staircase.

"Get out of my house," she mumbled, sounding exasperated.

"Who the _hell_ -?" Yusuke yelled.

"What do you mean _your_ house?" Kuwabara asked, thrown off entirely. "I thought this place was empty?"

Ignoring both outbursts, she swung aside one of the paintings in the stairwell to reveal a fancy, white panel. Orange lights were flashing erratically at her, and she sighed. "Dammit…" Punching random buttons, the lights turned blue and stopped flashing. "How did you all set off three quarters of my security traps?"

Yusuke groaned, head hanging back. "You mean there are _more_?"

She rolled her eyes and pointed at the door. "Get the goddamn hell out of my house. Before I make you."

Kurama frowned, calculating. The girl was almost certainly human, not a speck of demonic _anything_ about her aura. Her reiki level was a tad high, so she was probably spiritually aware, like Kuwabara had been before the Dark Tournament, but she likely couldn't tell anything about the intruders. How did she think she could force them all out?

While he was thinking, Hiei was smirking. " _Make_ us?" he snipped, "I'd like to see you try, girl."

With another sigh and a roll of her eyes, she seemed to pull out a machete from nowhere. It was old, the blade spotted with rust, but she handled it like it was an extension of her arm.

"Look, buddy, just get out of my house and let me watch Deka Wanko in peace. okay? That's all I want out of my Saturday. I won't even press charges."

She wasn't even shocked that a handful of people had just invaded her home. How often did this happen, Kurama wondered? Before the others could say a word, he gave her a polite smile. "Forgive us," he apologized, bowing slightly at the waist. "We thought this building was abandoned. Now that we know otherwise, we'll be taking our leave." For that's what Koenma had instructed them to do on the off-chance that it _was_ inhabited. He looked at Yusuke, who'd bristled at her nonverbal threat, but they exchanged a silent understanding.

"Yeah…" Yusuke relaxed and grinned cheekily at her. "Sorry about that. Heard this was a fun place to party. Guess we were wrong."

The girl's face seemed to wake up a little more, and she glowered. "Who told you-?"

But Kurama was already ushering his friends out. Hiei vanished into the trees while the rest of them piled back into the car as quickly as they could. As Kuwabara tore out of the driveway, over the alligator-filled moat, and back to the road, Yusuke leaned against the window and pouted.

"Well, that was a bust!" he grunted. "Now what do we do? I thought the brat really wanted that place for something?"

"What happened?" Botan asked, leaning forward to rest her elbows on both the driver's seat and the passenger's. "No one's actually living in that place, are they?"

"Yeah." Kuwabara looked like he was deep in thought. "A girl. Probably our age."

"That's weird…" Botan bit her lip thoughtfully. "I guess there's nothing else to do but report to Koenma, then. He wanted to know what happened, either way."

"Tell him I want workman's comp!" Yusuke snapped, brandishing his burned hand in at her face. "Seriously! The things I do for that brat!"

"Oh, Yusuke," Botan giggled, "You've been through worse than a little burn."

"That's my point!" he shrieked, voice cracking. "I've literally _died_ for that bastard, I demand financial compensation!"

"I can fix it right up for you," she brushed off. "Just give me a minute." Botan pulled her tiny communicator out of her pocket and dialed Koenma, waiting patiently until his image flickered onto the screen. He looked grumpy.

"What is it, Botan?" he demanded, "The mission can't be over already!"

"I'm afraid this stage is, sir," she conceded. "The boys had a little problem inside."

"Little?!" Yusuke jammed his injury into the sight of the communicator. "Look at my hand!"

Koenma rolled his eyes. "Oh, get over it, you crybaby. Tell me what happened."

Kurama, while Yusuke and Kuwabara frequently interjected, launched into an abridged version of what had happened. Not that they were there for very long. When he got to the part about the mansion's human resident, Koenma didn't seem all that surprised. In fact, the gears in his brain were turning; something had clicked.

"How good of a look did you get of the place?" he asked.

"Not a particularly good one," Kurama admitted. "We poked around the cellar and explored the first floor, and I saw a little bit of the attic."

"Was there anything…" Koenma paused, searching for the word. " _Odd_? Things that looked out of place?"

"The science lab in the basement!" Yusuke interjected. "Kurama saw it! What was in that tank, d'you think?"

"There were plenty of things that didn't belong in that mansion," Kurama agreed.

"How bad were the traps?"

"Terrible," Kuwabara threw in darkly. "I'm lucky my arm doesn't look like Swiss cheese!"

"Oh, it wasn't that bad," Botan said soothingly. "You dodged the arrows expertly."

"Were there camel-shaped door knockers?" Koenma finally asked. Everyone in the car fell silent for a few minutes. He had his answer. "Right." He shuffled some papers around on his desk. "None of you are to go back to that house for the time being. Kurama, Botan, I would like to see you privately in my office as soon as possible."

"Absolutely," Botan said with a nod.

"How did you know-?" Kuwabara started, but Koenma had already hung up.

Kurama found himself standing at the door of the mansion once again a few days later, this time with an adult-looking Koenma, himself, as well as Botan. They were all dressed as regular humans, though a little fancier than normal in dress shirts, slacks, and the like. Their meeting the other day had been all about a new battle plan. The little prince was determined to get his hands on, or at the very least someone inside, the mansion. With or without its current owner.

Koenma gripped the black suitcase in his hand and calmly banged the brass ring against the door. It took a few minutes, and Koenma knocked again, but finally they heard a voice on the other side.

"Yeah, I'm coming. You try getting to the door in a millisecond when you're anywhere in this place…" Kurama stifled a grin.

The same girl from before, still dressed in odd, frilly clothes, greeted them with a blank stare. When her eyes landed on Kurama, she furrowed her brow. " _You_ ," she hissed, "You're one of the jerks from the other day."

"Jerks?" Botan asked, clucking chidingly. "What did you boys _do_ to the poor girl?"

"Yes," he said softly, ignoring Botan. "And I hope you'll accept my sincerest apologies once more for our intrusion."

Her eyes snapped to Koenma and his briefcase, and she lost her frown. Her eyes turned sad. "Oh…" she breathed. Glancing away, she relented, "Please, come in." She led the trio into the foyer, which was lined in dark hardwood and matching paneling. "I'm not sure where you would like to conduct your business," she said, addressing Koenma as if the other two weren't there. "My office is on the third floor, but it's hard to offer you tea from up there, and what kind of host would I be if I didn't at least do that?"

"The dining room would suffice," Koenma suggested. Kurama caught his eye, questioning him silently. Koenma shook his head the smallest fraction of an inch. Now's not the time.

He got to have a good look at the large dining room while the girl was off in the kitchen. The wood was almost as dark as the foyer, though it was brightened with windows and green drapery and rugs. The table was massive, able to seat twelve with plenty of room to spare, and decorated with a simple floral arrangement. They looked like some of the flowers that were out in the garden. The girl must have made it, herself.

"Koenma, sir," Botan whispered urgently, shifting uncomfortably in her seat, "Isn't that—?"

"Yep." He cut her off, still stoic. "Kiya's girl."

That name was familiar. Where had he…?

Just then, she came back into the dining room, bearing a large, gilded tray that held a very Rococo-esque tea set with, of all things, a large, fluffy black cat winding around her ankles. "I can guess why you're here," she said, pouring everyone tea and leaving them to their own cream and sugar. "But I'll tell you, like I've told everyone else who's asked, I can't sell the mansion." She watched Koenma idly stir a sugar lump into his tea. "Not even to the Prince of Reikai."

Botan choked on her tea. "How did you guess?" she asked, slamming the teacup down on its saucer. "You've never met him!"

"No," she agreed, sitting down across from Koenma. The cat vanished under the table. "I've heard enough about you, though. I still have one of Kiya's notebooks. After the Idiot Brigade's bungled break-in, I dug it up and found all I needed. I can be a real moron, sometimes, but I'm not stupid."

"It doesn't matter," Koenma said calmingly to Botan. "I'm not surprised. Toriaka trained you well."

The girl set her jaw firmly. "I didn't learn resourcefulness from her," she said quietly. "Please, say what you think might convince me to sell. I'll indulge you."

"I don't want to buy your mansion," he casually said, setting his briefcase on the table. "Though, I wouldn't have minded if you hadn't been here. No, I have a different proposition." Popping open his case, he pulled out a small stack of papers and flipped it around to show off a very large sum of money. The girl ignored the latter and started scanning the papers.

"'Research proposal…'" she murmured. "What? Why?"

"Your mansion has been the center of odd things for quite some time," he explained. "Right?"

Her eyes flicked up to his face, hard. "How much did Kiya tell you?" she asked quietly, setting the stack down.

"Only about the television," Koenma admitted. "And the pen. I don't know any particulars. But, I would like to. When interdimensional travel becomes mastered by a pack of unruly teenagers, of course Reikai wants to know about it. And, since Kurama, here, is arguably the smartest employee I have, I wanted to have him look into the matter."

Kurama smiled when she glanced at him. This was the first he'd heard of it.

"I wouldn't advise a one-man team, when it comes to the TV," she snorted, resting her chin in her hand. "Trust me. I've tried it."

"Hence the rest of the written forms in front of you."

"I saw." She frowned, pressing her lips thin and bringing her arm down. "This isn't a boarding house."

"I can pay you."

"I don't need money." She looked like she regretted that statement the second she made it.

"Then what?"

Looking down at her hands, she whispered, "I just want to be left alone."

Koenma sighed. "Kurama, Botan, help me out, here."

"Did you know," Botan chirped sweetly, smiling at the girl, "I was the first person from Reikai to meet Tori-chan! She told me _so_ much about you!"

" _Not that_ ," Koenma snapped through gritted teeth, watching the girl's face darken.

She stood up sharply. "I'm sorry," she repeated in a flat tone, "But I can't allow strangers to live in my home, anymore. They always cause mayhem with my collection." She gestured to the hallway. "Please, leave."

They watched her leave the dining room and heard her unlocking the front door. Koenma shot a hard, insistent look at Kurama. " _Do something_ ," he growled quietly. His eyes were glittering dangerously.

For whatever reason, Koenma desperately wanted a foothold in this building. If it was really for the "research project," or the "interdimensional travel," Kurama didn't know, but he had a decision to make. He clenched his jaw. This was ridiculous. The trio rose from the table and followed after the girl. While Koenma and Botan made their goodbyes and went back outside, Kurama lagged behind, putting on his most charming smile.

"I'm sorry we couldn't come to an understanding," he unctuously said, hanging in the doorway. She scowled, refusing to meet his eye.

"There's nothing to understand." She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. "My home can't be open to just anyone who wants to crash here."

"If you don't mind my asking," Kurama quickly asked, "Do you think I might be able to pick your brain some time about your security system? I'm intrigued."

Her green eyes slid to his. They were perpetually wide, he noticed, though her eyebrows made them seem warier and erased any hint of surprise. It was like she was trying to see every potential threat around her at once. The tattoo under one eye didn't help things, as it was a simple, black rectangle with the lower left and upper right corners turning down and up respectively. It matched her eyeliner well, at any rate. She huffed through her nose, like a bull. "He said your name's Kurama, yeah? I should've guessed."

"Does my reputation precede me?" he asked jokingly. She didn't laugh. "Yes, I'm Kurama, though I go by Minamino Shuichi in the human world."

"Kiya mentioned you and the others a few times," she continued softly. "She said… I think she said you were a thief, maybe?"

He held his hands up in mock surrender. "I swear, I've put that occupation behind me!" he promised. Kurama studied her again. "Ah, I remember, now. Kiya Toriaka, the half-demon girl from Tokyo. You knew her?"

"You could say that." The girl gulped, hard, and looked away again. Her fingertips, nails bitten to the quick, dug into the sides of her arms. He'd said the wrong thing again.

"I suppose I'll be taking my leave with my employer," he finished, holding out a hand for her to shake. "It was lovely meeting you."

She stared at his hand, and turned away, reaching out to find the door in order to shut it. With a sigh, he took the steps down from the porch. The second his foot touched the dirt ground, her flat tone cut through the country air.

"My name is Endo Irie. Safe travels, Kurama."

Irie sat in her bedroom, curled up in the bay window that she'd finally fixed up into a reading nook. Her phone was sitting on the other side, staring at her. Daring her to pick it up. In her hand, she was anxiously curling the corner of Koenma's joke of a business card. Her throat tightened every time she thought about his visit from yesterday. He'd known Toriaka. And, she realized, he also would have known Nanami. She wondered, as she did every day, if they ever thought of her, and she bit her lip to keep it from trembling. Tossing the card down on the floor, she rolled from her perch and left her room to make her way downstairs. A small spaniel, curled up on an ottoman against the other side of the room, lifted her head and wagged her tail.

"Stay, Duchess."

Irie both loved and hated the mansion. It was her everything, and it was a prison sentence. The walls here held more memories than her own mind. This hallway, for instance: five portraits, beautifully painted in oils, stared at her. Judged her. She brushed past their gazes and hopped onto the banister, sliding down to reach the first floor all the faster.

The television was hidden quietly away from view in the living room, but she could still feel its pull. The urge to check. To see if it had been activated. But she resisted. Instead, she padded into the kitchen and grabbed a bag of seeds from a cupboard, shoving it under her arm and walking out into the backyard.

"Matilda!" she called out, "Children! Come eat!" A fat peacock with a gloriously long tail came waddling from her strawberry bushes, and she rolled her eyes. "Sigfried," she complained, "Dude, I already fed you _how_ many times today? Let the kids have some."

As if on cue, the peahen with the clutch of seven chicks led her passel into the yard, expectantly cocking her head up at Irie. Her young clustered around Irie's feet, peeping and hopping excitedly and making her laugh.

"Look how big you're all getting!" she cooed sweetly. She sat down on the back step and scattered seeds everywhere. Immediately, the various birds dove in and started eating. Scooping more into her hand, she plucked one of the smaller chicks from the mass and let it eat from her hand. "You're not letting them bully you, are you, Tank?" she asked, not expecting an answer. She gently stroked his soft, downy body. "I hope those idiots from the other day didn't give you guys any trouble."

Irie sighed and sat back, absently petting the peachick. "They want me to rent out the mansion to them. Can you believe it? After all the trouble we went through to keep this place safe and protected. Damn it, Tori, why couldn't you keep your mouth shut?"

A soft breeze played through the trees of her fruit orchards. With a sigh, she looked up and watched a stray, green leaf float along on the wind. It also carried the sweet smell of her trees. She made up her mind. Throwing out the last of a measured amount of feed for her birds, she returned the bag to its place in the kitchen and dug up a large, wicker basket from the pantry. Irie started the trek back out the door, stepping carefully around her peachicks and their mother, and walked down the long footpath that led to the orchard. She'd have to take her car out, next time, since the trees within walking distance were almost done being harvested.

She passed by a clump of rose bushes on her way, and the scent struck a chord with her. Why? She smelled them a dozen times a day, if not more. She realized with a bitter, wry smile that one of her visitors had also smelled like them. The redhead. Kurama.

Now, she _knew_ he knew Toriaka and Nanami. They'd mentioned him several times as they regaled the mansion with tales of their exploits with Koenma's spirit detective, though she hadn't thought about those in quite some time. He liked plants, she remembered. Maybe he would help out in her garden during his stay. She smiled to herself as she walked under the shady boughs of her peach trees. It would be nice to have someone able to reach the higher branches without having to climb. That was precarious work, she thought, as she nervously slung her basket awkwardly over one shoulder and clambered into the lower crook of the tree. She'd grown up with apple trees, which were substantially easier to maneuver. The branch wobbled under her weight, but she managed to stay balanced until her head broke through the leaves. The sun felt good on her face. Warm.

What would Toriaka and Nanami have done in her position, she asked herself? Of course, they'd have said yes to Koenma without a second thought. She shook her head, gently setting picked peaches into her basket. She was thinking about people from almost a decade ago. What about now? If they had to make the decision now, would they still say yes? Or would they be cautious and say no?

Who were they, now? Who had they become in six, seven years? With a frustrated sigh, pawing at her eyes to brush away the angry tears starting to well up, she reminded herself that it wasn't any use. They were gone. All of them. She had to decide on her own.

"Alright."

Koenma was surprised to hear the voice on the other end of the line, but pleased.

"But I want an increase in pay that's thirty percent higher than your original offer," Irie continued. "If I'm going to have demons and crazy people tramping in and out of my house, I'm going to have to have the resources to help look after them."

"I thought you said you didn't need the money?" Koena asked slyly.

"I'm not finished." She sounded determined to get everything out. "If Kurama or any of the other idiots get killed or maimed by either my home or my portal, I'm not to be held responsible. You're the ones who insisted to come here."

He sighed. "Done. I'll have my people sign waivers and everything."

"I would like to assume that I'm getting copies of these legal documents."

"Absolutely."

"Excellent." He heard her shuffling papers around on the other end of the line. "Give me a list of the first group to be staying here, and three days to prepare their lodgings. I'll expect the first month's payment upon arrival, followed up by similar monthly installments."

"You're very business-minded, for a twenty-two-year-old girl."

"Twenty-three. But, I'll take that as a compliment."

"Can I ask what changed your mind, Ms. Endo?"

She curtly hung up the phone, ignoring his question, and Koenma did the same with another, irritable sigh. "Wow, am I glad she asked for money," he breathed, sitting back down in his too-big chair. "From what I can remember, those girls would have wanted a lot more out of me back in the day."

"Girls, sir?" Jorge piped up.

Koenma nodded, but didn't elaborate. "Ogre, call up Botan. We're shipping the team out to Kyushu."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hello, all! Welcome to the new fic- I know, it's not Yu-Gi-Oh! I was shocked, too. Alas, Yu Yu Hakusho is also one of my original anime loves, and I think the characters work better for darker, grittier storylines.

I have the need to tell you all that this is being written almost exclusively for myself.

That said, I wasn't actually sure I was going to post this one. I started writing it a couple of weeks ago as a way to help me work through some deep-seated issues that I never quite dealt with. It's going to get sad and angsty, and for that, I'm sorry.

Special thanks to user **owlloveyou** for a few things, the least of which being the nerve to post this story, as well as continue on with writing the others. For real, if you enjoy Yu Yu Hakusho, and you like a good Kurama/OC story, then please go check out her  Lithium Flowers stories. They're excellent, and have the best OCs I've read in quite a while (and the pop culture references are to die for, but that's because I'm a huge nerd).

Thank you for reading, everyone! Lots of love, GrisaillesDreams


	2. Home Sweet Mansion

Irie found herself with her first guest two days early. She sat back in an armchair as she watched Botan busy herself with unpacking, thankful that the dogs were wandering about outside and the cats were… well, who knew where the cats were? After a long, relatively annoying conversation about where she would sleep, Botan had gotten Irie to give in and allow her to use one of the bedrooms on the second floor—the same floor where Irie, herself, slept. The room directly next to hers was off-limits, but Botan had her pick of any of the others on the other side of the hall.

She'd chosen one that was tucked away in the opposite corner: its entrance didn't lead directly into the hall, and one had to walk through two other bedrooms to reach it. Everything, from the bedding to the curtains, was a bright shade of magenta, which Botan seemed to enjoy well enough.

"I haven't had anyone living in these bedrooms in years," Irie said sleepily. "And that was the girliest bedspread I could dig up in the attic."

"It's perfect, dear, thank you."

Botan curiously scanned the bookshelf; most of the titles were either music-related or manga. Lots and lots of manga. She smiled to herself, and went back to her bag that was lying open on the bed. The last thing to unpack was her communications system. It was a lot fancier than her little compact, but Koenma felt it was needed. She was there, after all, as Reikai's official commissary. She'd be reporting back now and again on Kurama's findings, the notes she would take on Irie's stories, and any goings-on that may happen during their stay.

Upon getting everything plugged in and turned on, Botan leaned over the desk chair briefly and smiled into the webcam. "Hello, Lord Koenma!" she sang.

His face flickered through the static before coming into focus. Irie snorted into her hand, trying not to laugh at his toddler form. "Botan?" he asked. "How's it going? Are you done moving in?"

"Yes, sir! Everything went just fine."

"Good." He cleared his throat and held a hand of greeting up to Irie. "Good morning, Ms. Endo. I trust you're satisfied with the paperwork and payment?"

She just stuck her thumb out at him, making sure it was in the camera's frame. He waited for a verbal reply, but quickly realized he wasn't going to get one.

"Alright, then. Thanks for checking in, Botan. The team will be there in two days."

"Right-o!"

"You're much too chipper for so early in the morning," Irie grumbled moodily as the screen went black.

"Silly goose," Botan purred, "It's already ten thirty!"

"That's my five-a-m." Irie groaned and stood up, stretching. "Well, since you're getting settled in and I'm already awake, I guess I'll go make some coffee."

"Ooh, I'd love some."

Botan followed her back out, wondering what she could possibly say to get into Irie's good graces. It wouldn't do to be on frosty terms with her landlady, however temporary. The problem was that Irie was moody, and became upset by the strangest things for almost no reason at all. Botan caught sight of the portraits in the hallway, again. Each was hanging directly next to a door.

Curiosity piqued, she pointed at one and asked, "Who painted that? It looks just like you!"

Irie glanced at the rendered face staring back at her. It felt like it had been a lifetime ago since it was made, and looked it, too. The girl grinning mischievously on the canvas didn't look like Irie in the slightest. She was too happy.

Tearing her eyes away, Irie merely replied, "A friend."

To her horror, Botan fluttered about the hall some more. "It's like you've got a matching set!" she sang, pausing before the other four portraits. Each subject was dressed in formal attire, all black, and posed regally in an elegant, red armchair. "Are they also friends of yours?"

"They were."

She brought her eyes up to another painting, not her own: a blonde with a cherubic face and bright eyes glimmered over her head, beaming at nothing visible. Probably the artist. Ironically, Irie realized, the artist was, in fact, hanging up in his own self-portrait across the hall. The expression he wore from under his choppy blue mop was cool, always calculating. But Irie smiled softly to herself. He also made the best jokes, sometimes, and the only one she still talked to, however occasional. Maybe that's why she couldn't take this image seriously. Her eyes lingered between the thin plaques mounted into each frame, bearing the names of the subjects as well as that of the artist.

"There's that smile~"

She jumped. Botan was hovering over her shoulder, beaming knowingly at her. Irie flushed and rolled her eyes.

"It's not like my face is immune to them."

"I just haven't seen you smile before, that's all." Botan pouted a little, arms crossed over her chest. She caught the name listed on the blonde portrait. "Mitsu… how adorable."

Irie nodded curtly. "Very. Mitsu was always the cute one. Ha, even the time we were turned into critters, and she was-" She stopped talking immediately, realizing what story she was starting to tell. Clearing her throat, she amended, "She was super perky, and didn't have a mean bone in her body. A lot like Aaya, over there." She jabbed her thumb at the face, framed by soft, dark brown hair that brushed just past the shoulders, hanging next to the door Botan took to her new bedroom.

"You should introduce me to everyone else!" Botan urged, linking arms.

Grudgingly, Irie was led around to each of the other portraits, made to give Botan their names and a little something about who they were; the blue-haired man, and the only man, for that matter, was Masanori. He was the one who'd made most of the art hanging in the mansion, though Irie had added a few pieces of her own over the years as she taught herself to paint. Ayame, or, as Irie called her, Aaya, was the original owner of the music room upstairs. It was filled with old instruments that she'd collected, but no longer played. When she moved out, she opted to leave those behind. Finally, next to Mitsu's portrait was Shinjuko. This one looked like she could probably murder you before you knew what was actually happening, and she gave Botan the chills.

"And you all lived here together?" she asked her host.

"Once." Irie sighed and pulled her arm away from Botan. "They all moved out long ago." She made herself smile when they came to the stairs. "Now, Botan," she started, trying to make herself sound more cheerful before her guest could ask anymore questions, "If there's one thing that you should know about getting around the mansion, it's that going down is ten times easier than going up."

She gripped the rail with both hands and hoisted herself up until she was sitting on it. She gestured for Botan to do the same, and let go of the rail. Irie went sliding down the sharp slope of the stairway, letting herself laugh. Botan hopped up, next, perched upon it as if it were the handle of her oar. Irie hadn't waited for her. She gingerly let herself slide, letting out a restrained giggle, then a sharp yelp when she fumbled the landing. She had to grab the small end table two feet away to keep herself upright, though she almost smacked her face down on a bell jar that housed a dried floral arrangement sitting in the eye of a skull.

"Don't worry," she heard Irie call from the kitchen, "I do that all the time!"

The kitchen was no exception to the "covered in art" rule: several still life portraits of fruit bowls and flowers hung from the creamy-colored wallpaper, bringing a little extra brightness to the otherwise lonely mansion. The table and chairs here were much different from the dining room, roughly made and worn. They were definitely more popular for mealtimes. Irie was busy at the counter, pushing buttons without even looking while she decided what coffee she wanted.

Stifling a yawn with her wrist, Irie asked, "Do you have a coffee preference? I like light roasts, but I can do something stronger if you want."

"You make whatever you'd like," Botan insisted.

"Right on." Irie shrugged, patting the machine gently as it let out a thin stream of steam. Whipping open the fridge, she threw in, "I've only got sweet cream for creamer, though."

Botan assured her that milk and sugar would be enough, and watched as Irie hopped up on a barstool against the island counter. Both of them inhaled deeply as the light scent of coffee and caramel warmed the kitchen. Irie smiled. It was nice to have someone drink coffee with her, again.

They spent the next two days preparing the third floor for the rest of the visitors on Irie's list: Yusuke, Kurama, Kuwabara, and someone named Yu Kaito. While Botan acquainted Irie with their basic information, Irie couldn't help but sneer.

"This is my mansion!" she complained quietly. "I don't need a babysitter!"

"Kaito's not just here to keep an eye on you," Botan assured, trying to calm her down. "and you should really think of it as companionship. Like me! Anyway, he's going to be Kurama's lab assistant, for the most part."

"I can do that. It's my lab."

"Irie-chan, it's all yours."

"Yeah, but it's my lab!" she insisted, sounding distressed. Botan wasn't understanding. "Like the music room was Aaya's!"

"That's the deal, chickadee. Take it or leave it."

She gave in eventually, but only because Botan said Irie could supervise the use of her equipment.

When move-in-day officially arrived, she stood on her front step looking sullenly at the four young men pulling various bags out of the car that brought them there. Botan cheerfully went to help them, and Irie was left rubbing her temples, blocking out the sounds of their chatter and Duchess snuffling around the flowers.

"Okay," she finally said, holding her hands out to stop them from entering the front door. "Before I let any of you into my home, I have to go over the ground rules."

"Aw, c'mon," Yusuke bitched. "Just let me get my shit inside."

"If you don't follow the rules, I'll leave you out here to the mercy of the wild." She raised an eyebrow dangerously, glowering at him. "And my peacocks are the least of your problems." A smile crept over her lips when she looked at a spot just over Kuwabara's shoulder. "Speaking of…"

The others turned to follow her gaze and her terrified to see a massive, furry tank come barreling from the forest towards the house. It started barking, loudly, its feet carrying it directly towards Yusuke without any sign of stopping. That is, until Irie let out a low whistle.

"Easy, Buttons!"

The monster skidded to a halt and barked at Irie, wagging its long tail. Now that it wasn't in motion, it was quite clearly a very large, grey-brown dog that was almost as tall as the girl's shoulder when sitting. When she snapped her fingers, he immediately went to her feet and sat down, tongue lolling out of his jaws while his tail thumped against the porch.

With a grin, Irie sweetly said, "Silly puppy. Who's my good boy, coming to take down the intruders?"

"What is that thing?" Kaito drawled, adjusting his glasses.

"Buttons." Raising an eyebrow, Irie added, "He guards the land within a couple kilometers of the mansion, among other things, and he's not afraid of anyone. Human or demon." Crouching down to his level, she ruffled the fur on either side of his large head. "Though I'm not sure why you didn't go after them the first time they were here." He licked her cheek, and all was forgiven.

"Sure you just don't have him to ride?" Yusuke sniggered under his breath.

The dog, Buttons, growled at him, and Yusuke immediately hushed. Clearing her throat, Irie stood up and waited until everyone was listening.

"Anyway. Rule number one: the attic is absolutely off limits. No exceptions, no questions. The door is locked and alarmed, and I'll know if you've tried to get in. If I find that out, it's your ass outside."

"Harsh…" Kuwabara muttered.

"The shit I keep in there is beyond dangerous," she explained darkly. "Not to be touched. Second rule, gentlemen: the lab in the basement is also off-limits. Kurama and Kaito will be allowed to use it under my supervision, and my supervision only. They may bring others down there for testing, and subjects will not be allowed to touch anything."

"Hey, I didn't sign up for this to be a guinea pig!" Yusuke protested.

Ignoring him, Irie continued, "Third rule, no harassing any of my critters. It's spring and I've got infants wandering around. The last thing they need is to be bothered by you idiots. Fourth rule, and this one's pretty important: if you find a locked door and you want inside, come to me. I might unlock it for you."

"If you don't?" Kaito asked, nudging his glasses back up his nose.

"Then you forget about going inside." Looking down at Yusuke and Kuwabara, of whom Botan had warned her, she added, "And rule four: No fighting inside. Or in my vegetable patch. I'd also prefer it if you kept it out of my orchards. There's plenty of forest and field for you boys to roughhouse."

"Hey, don't look at me!" Kuwabara interjected, "I'm not an animal."

She sighed and looked up at the porch awning. "I think that's about it. I'll let you know if there's anything else. If you want me to make your meals for you, then you'll have to follow my feeding schedule. Breakfast at ten, lunch at one, dinner at six. Tea on Monday, Wednesday, Friday, and Sunday around three. Snack and drink as you like, I don't give a damn, as long as you don't eat anything that's labelled 'don't,' and you don't try to break into my liquor cabinet. I'll open that for you when you want." Stepping out of the way of the door and gesturing them inside, she finished with, "Your bedrooms are on the third floor."

This gave way to more bitching and complaining as she unlocked the door, mostly from Yusuke and Kuwabara. "Why the third floor?!" Yusuke snapped. "I thought there were, like, eight rooms on the second!"

"One room is mine, one is Botan's," Irie started, refusing to look at any of them while they filed past, "Three of them are off-limits, and the other three were designed for children. Unless you don't mind sleeping in a place that's surrounded by dinosaur wallpaper." She relaxed a little while the smell of dinner cooking in her largest crock-pot wafted across her nose. "It's just a tradition. The primary residents of the house stay on the second floor, and our guests stay on the third."

"Then why does Botan get a second-floor room…?" Kuwabara grumbled.

"Because I'm special~" Botan threw him a wink and flounced up the stairway.

"Two of you will have to share a room," Irie called after them as they all trudged up the stairs. "I don't care who, and I don't care what room, but any of them can house two apiece." With a small smile, she added, "Kaito, Botan mentioned you like literature. One of the bedrooms is right across from the library. I thought you might enjoy that."

"Very much, thank you," he agreed.

"Forget about the fact that almost every room has a bookshelf…" Botan said under her breath.

"Not the bathrooms!" Irie chimed in matter-of-factly. "Though I did consider it, once."

Kurama had a light hold of the railing as he walked up, and his thumb brushed up against something on the underside of it. He paused to look, and saw Irie's machete latched into place, wedged between slots in the wood. Hidden, but easily accessible. She definitely hadn't just created this out of thin air before, and he hadn't expected that to be the case.

"Got a problem?"

Irie was watching him, eyes narrowed. She was daring him to ask about it.

"Not at all."

Once they reached the second floor, Irie waved them off and retreated back into her bedroom, keeping the door open only a crack. She trusted that Botan would see to it that everyone found a place to sleep. The sky was very cloudy through the windows, and, because of that, the mansion's interior was better illuminated than Kurama had seen it previously. Chandeliers, probably glass instead of real crystal, sparkled from the ceilings with electric lights.

"I didn't think they would run the grid out this far," Kaito observed.

"Whoever had it installed probably paid extra." Kurama turned into the third floor, seeing the relatively bare walls (maybe because none of these paintings were portraits) and those familiar, no longer dusty, rugs. "It wouldn't surprise me. All of the owners have had a substantial amount of money at some time or another."

Because Kurama and Kaito were a little more serious about their privacy appreciation, Yusuke and Kuwabara ended up becoming roommates, shunted into the room closest to the stairs. At least it had the bigger beds, or that was Kuwabara's justification to himself, anyway. Kaito was on the other end of the hall, next to the bathroom and, as Irie had promised, across from the library, which he immediately vanished into upon dropping his bags next to his new bed. Kurama was sandwiched between his companions.

The walls, carpet, bedding, everything was blue, either navy or a pale robin's egg, and the furniture was trimmed in a simple chestnut color. A television and loveseat were tucked into the corner on the other side of the closet, across from a very basic wall mirror and a beaten-up wardrobe below it. Deep gouges scored the sides, but someone had repainted or stained the wood to make it look a little nicer.

Unpacking was simple enough. He hadn't brought much in the way of clothes, and most of it was for exploring… something. Koenma "forgot" to tell Kurama details about his mission, again, and Botan mentioned something about "Oh, Irie will know." The heaviest, largest bag was stuffed with supplies and tools, anything and everything he could think of to bring that might prove itself useful. Kurama left most of it in the bag, since it would be better off getting moved to the laboratory. He found a pocket-sized lock-picking kit in a side pocket. The prohibition on the attic was enough to make him want it more, and this was a perfect time.

He stepped out of his bedroom and made his way to the stairs: one set going up, the other going down. Unfortunately for him, he bumped into someone just as he turned the corner to head up.

"Ah, sorry, Kurama."

Irie had leaped back a few feet, looking mildly scared for a fleeting instant. Her face rearranged itself so that she was giggling sheepishly. Something was panting from somewhere near her ankles, and he saw a little spaniel, red and white, watching him with her big, brown eyes in that way that dogs do, as if she were ecstatic to see him. Light glinted off the rhinestone collar around her neck.

"What's up?" Irie continued, "Get settled in, already?"

"Yes, thank you." Damn. "What brings you up this way so soon?"

She held up a sheaf of familiar papers. "These've been sitting on my desk since I got them, and I really should file them." Pointing over his shoulder, she added, "My office is that way."

"Of course. Actually, I was looking for you." He had been meaning to ask her something, and was glad he had it as an excuse. "Something's been bothering me since we first visited."

"Look, dude, I know, the TV's really weird-"

He added that to the list of things that he didn't entirely understand. With a short laugh, he said, "No, no, not that. I was wondering why we can't sense energy in this house?"

She snorted. "You really think that after Kiya came back here telling us tales of ghosts and demons in our own world, we wouldn't demon-proof the damn place?" She shook her head and gestured for him to follow her with her finger. "No, we have barriers in the floors. Sort of woven into the air, I guess. I don't know, I didn't put them there. But they're good for letting us hide."

Irie stopped him at the top of the stairs, and backed herself down. He immediately knew what she was talking about. The second her head ducked below the floor beneath his feet, any trace of her energy was gone. That explained why he and the others hadn't known she was here the day they broke inside.

"It's not sound-proof," he noted.

"Nah, the floors are thick enough that we didn't need to do that." She saw his expression and turned red. "I'd been sleeping when you and the rest of the Idiot Brigade came barging in like an army. And I can sleep through a hurricane."

He laughed. "You and Hiei have that in common."

With a snorting laugh of her own, she begged, "Oh, God, don't compare me to that dour little munchkin."

She came back up the steps and brushed past him. Now that he was paying attention, it was like a light switch had been turned on, and suddenly he could feel her very human spirit energy radiating from her body. He watched her go down the hall, no longer paying him much mind.

"Who do you need to hide from?" he asked, curious, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"No one."

Well, that answer was brusque enough to be a lie. "Botan said you would talk to me about the mission?" he called after her.

She waved back in reply. "Yeah, later. After dinner."

Yusuke, Botan, and Kuwabara squeezed past them, going back to the car for the odds and ends that had been left behind, chatting amongst themselves.

"I get why we can't fight in the house," Yusuke was saying, "But why did everyone look at me when she said that?" He narrowed his eyes. "Botan, what did you say?"

"Nothing but the truth, Yusuke," she admitted as they moseyed back outside. "But I know how much you like your exercise, and she's perfectly happy to let you have the basement. It's got a punching bag and everything."

He scoffed. Because that was enough for him. Right. He lifted the last box onto his shoulder and trailed behind the other two. Briefly, he tripped on a loose shoelace, so he dropped the box on the ground and crouched to tie it. Botan and Kuwabara hadn't noticed, and let the front door shut behind them. It wasn't a problem, Yusuke thought, until he tried to pull it open.

"Hey, what gives?!" he yelled, jiggling the handle again. "It's locked!"

The camel head closest to him let out a weird bellow and spat- actually spat- at him. Grabbing the ring in its mouth, Yusuke shoved his face up close and let out a stream of thinly veiled threats to melt it down and use it as a-

"Yeah, the lock's automatic," a voice called, and he looked up. Irie was leaning out of a second-floor window, watching him with the most amused expression. "Sorry, I must have forgotten to mention how to chain it to the wall to keep it open."

"That's nice," he grumbled, "Can you let me in, please?"

She actually thought about it, but then grinned mischievously at him. "Actually," she proposed, "I think you should try to figure out where the spare key is and how to get it."

"What?"

"Everything in my house that's locked has another way of being opened," Irie continued. "A hidden key, a secret code, whatever. You just have to find it."

Glaring up at her, he asked, "Why can't you just tell me where it is?"

"Because you should learn how to do it, yourself. I'm not going to be here all the time to let you people into things." It was also more fun to watch him struggle.

"Like you ever leave this place…" Yusuke muttered under his breath.

She informed him promptly, "I absolutely do. I drive into town once a month."

Thus began his twenty-minute search of the area around the porch: under the welcome mat, under the stairs, in the bushes (expertly avoiding the arrow trap that Kuwabara had triggered before), in the secret compartment he found under the porch (which only held a garden hose), everywhere. The sky was growing darker the longer he looked, and his temper was rising.

"Dammit!" he shouted, to the chorus of Irie and Botan laughing at him, since the latter had also decided to watch his fruitless attempts. "At least give me a clue!"

Irie rolled her eyes. "Should I just tell him, Botan?" she asked, her voice laced with irony.

"It would be kindest, I think," she suggested, a hand over her mouth while she stifled a chuckle.

"Oh, fine." Grinning at Yusuke, she called, "Go back to the camel heads."

He didn't even understand why she had these things, let alone why she would make anyone willingly interact with them. They were very annoying. The one that had spat on him earlier laughed at him, like it had at Hiei, but Irie didn't seem to think it was an issue.

"Take your two index fingers and hold them out. Good, now shove them up the camel's nostrils."

"Excuse me?!"

"Just do it."

Now, everyone was watching as Yusuke irritably did as he was bade. Much to his surprise, he felt buttons, one in each nostril, and pushed them in with his fingers.

"Grab the ring and pull down."

The ring turned out to be the handle to a hidden compartment within the camel's mouth, sliding open to reveal a small, brass key.

"Why would you keep a key here?!" he yelled up, snatching it away and unlocking the door.

"Because no one thinks to look there, of course."

She had a point.

After this exchange, the house quieted down while everyone unpacked and explored the third and first floors. Kurama waited patiently, wanting to get his debriefing over with, feeling content that Irie would remember her promise. Except "after dinner," during which she'd made a pot roast decent enough to make Yusuke forgive the incident with the front door, she became very distracted and forgot all about Kurama, though he hung around for a little while. She found Kuwabara poking around the living room, inspecting a pair of scimitars hanging on the wall, crossed over each other. With a smile, she perched herself on a barstool.

"Like swords?" she asked.

"Yeah, I guess." He was looking at an illegible inscription along one of the blades. "I can sword fight and stuff, but I make my own weapon out of spirit energy. So I only know a little bit about real ones."

"Eh, I couldn't tell you much about those." She slid off the stool and stood next to him, contemplating their existence, for all he knew. "They were here before I moved in. Now, if you wanted to see my sword collection, I can promise it's a lot more interesting."

She led him to a large cabinet shoved against the wall in the parlor, and he realized it must have been one of the things covered up the first time he was here.

"It looks a lot different without all the sheets," he observed.

"I figured you'd all appreciate living here a little more without them. The house I lived in growing up was treated like a museum, and it sucked." She reached into her pocket and dug around, but pulled a face. "Ugh. I left the key upstairs."

"That's okay-"

She looked at him quizzically. "Dude, there are other ways of opening it." As if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Turning back to the cabinet, she scratched the back of her head. "Let's see… which one was this…? Ah, yeah."

She slid her hand up the side of the cabinet until she found the little fingerhold she was searching for. It swung open to reveal a small hole in the hull of the wood, just large (and low enough) for her to rise on her toes and stick her tongue into. While Kuwabara made a disgusted face, she waited for the biometric scanner to complete its task. It beeped after a moment, and the lock clicked! to allow the cabinet doors to swing open.

"Okay, why?" Kuwabara asked her as she scraped her tongue against her teeth to rid herself of the taste of dust.

"Tongue prints are unique," was her simple answer. "You're not looking." Swiping at her tongue with her fingers, she murmured, "Jesus, that's disgusting, why did we think a lambitious lock was a good idea…?"

It was certainly an impressive collection: scythes, spears, a morningstar, a matching pair of one-handed flails, knives, daggers, axes, swords of all sizes. Some blades that Kuwabara couldn't even recognize as being from Earth. Irie plucked a sheathed nodachi from its velvet-lined drawer and fondly drew it. There were worn words carved into the old handle, and she ran her thumb against them.

"This one was always my favorite," she said softly, "Aside from my machete, of course."

"Where did you get all these?" Kuwabara grabbed a claymore that was about the same size as his Spirit Sword, and tested the balance in his hands. It felt good, though heavier than to what he was accustomed.

"Well, this used to belong to a man who once saved my ass from an angry bear," she explained, replacing the nodachi and opting for a set of throwing knives. She picked one up and briefly aimed it at the wall, practicing the motion before deciding against actually letting it go. "These come from all over. That-" She indicated to the sword he was holding, "- came from our first adventure. Mitsu snatched it from a knight before we jumped back into the portal."

"A knight?"

"'Twas a silly place." With an evil grin, she grabbed a double-sided battle-axe and pointed it at him. "How about it, Kuwabara? I haven't had a good fight in a long time."

"I'll tear you apart," he laughed, using the claymore to lean against. "No way, kid."

She pouted. "Aw, c'mon…"

He was reflecting on how oddly responsible he was being, and that Shizuru would be proud if she were here to witness it, but he couldn't turn Irie down a second time because they heard a sharp shout, then the sound of a trapdoor opening. Kaito suddenly fell through the ceiling and onto the parlor floor with a loud thump! Groaning, he sat there for a minute while the feeling came back into his body, and his stomach caught up with the rest of him.

"Where did you come from?!" Kuwabara asked, carelessly pointing the claymore at him.

"The library," Kaito moaned out, "I… I think." Irie helped him up and got him sitting on a couch. "I was browsing through the shelves and tried to pull out a book and then I was falling."

"Ohhhh," Irie breathed, knitting her brow as she figured it out faster than the others. "That's why that closet is so small…"

"You knew?!" Kaito growled through gritted teeth, "And you practically sent me there without a word!"

"Well, I didn't know," Irie corrected, "Though I probably should've guess. That's probably not the only false-book lever in the room."

Yusuke came dashing in. "I heard a yell. Everyone okay?"

"I should set my territory on you and make the taboo something so obvious, you'll say it in the first ten seconds and then I can destroy your soul!"

He was shaking her wildly by the shoulders. At Irie's very confused face, and Kaito's enraged expression, Yusuke started sniggering. "Damn, how did you make Kaito lose his cool so fast? A book nerd like you, I figured you two'd get along great."

"How many booby-traps are in here?!" Kaito shouted.

She shrugged, laughing nervously. "No clue. We put in most of them, but others were here before us. At least two dozen, probably more."

"Why?!"

"Girls' gotta have a security system."

"Please," Yusuke snorted at Kaito, "You should've been here the first time, when we were running into them left and right."

"I'm surprised you didn't burn down the place," Irie snidely teased. "How's that burn doing?"

Throwing himself into an armchair and ignoring her question, Yusuke watched as Kuwabara and Irie returned the weapons to their original places and shut up the cabinets. "So," he said, trying to strike up conversation- yes, he was that bored- "What did you and your friends do, shut up in this big mansion all the time?"

"We weren't locked up, dumbass," Irie laughed. "We got out all the time."

"Dressed up like Alice and going to tea parties?"

"I'm the only one who does that, as far as I know." She raised both eyebrows at him. "Unless there's something you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Urameshi."

"Hell no."

"If Urameshi ever put one of those getups on," Kuwabara stated, eyeballing Irie's yellow-and-lavender outfit, "He'd probably burn out everyone's retinas."

"Oh, I don't know." Suddenly, Irie was looking Yusuke up and down critically. "I've actually got some things that would probably fit him, now that I think about it." A grin plastered itself across her face. "Oh my God, I could do your hair and makeup and everything and you'd look so fucking-"

"Nobody puts Yusuke Urameshi in a dress."

In all the commotion, Kurama had snuck away back to the stairway and made his way up to the top floor. There was a single door on the fourth landing, with one keyhole. He could sense a web of invisible lasers in front of it, and saw a panel on the ground that would probably sink down and set off another trap if he were to step on it. He stooped down awkwardly so as to avoid all of these things while he got to work picking the lock. It was risky work, as the lasers were close enough to the lock and doorknob that most people would have probably set them off in a matter of seconds. He was not most people.

It eventually sprang open, and the lasers deactivated, allowing him to step inside. It was dark, just as dark as the cellar, though it had significantly more windows. Groping along the wall for a lightswitch, the attic illuminated to show off its trove. Boxes, boxes everywhere, labelled in every way imaginable. One that particularly caught his eye, styrofoam and shoved underneath an old Christmas tree, read "Star of Bethlehem; Handle with Caution, Gloves and goggles are in the lab." Against the corner was a massive "W," one that probably came from a franchise store, and next to it was a large box that said "Coupons." Funny. He hadn't pegged Irie as a coupon-clipper. There were more barrels, but not for wine. They looked more like toxic waste receptacles, and had warning labels to boot.

Lying carelessly on a table was a vintage pistol engraved with K & A and a stack of photo albums, which Kurama briefly opened and perused. He smiled. A young (very young, probably only twelve or thirteen) Irie sat crushed into a group of four other people, their faces all touching and arms wrapped tightly about each other. Her metal-snared teeth beamed boldly at the camera, and the tattoo wasn't yet on her cheek. Flipping it shut before he saw much else (most of them seemed to be selfies over the years of Irie and these friends), he took another look about. An IV drip was behind the skeleton, and one corner of the attic was dedicated solely to an art studio. Tubes of oil paints and a string of pearls lay strewn across a small, waist-high chest, just as abandoned as the empty easels and half-dozen, half-painted canvases stacked against an overstuffed, ruby-colored armchair.

He saw the door that led to the balcony… and then his eyes landed on the vault. It was massive, standing at eight feet high and almost six feet across, the door alone having to weigh a literal ton. Three key holes, already small, positively dwarfed by the size of the safe, sat in the face of the door, waiting to be opened.

He had to pick those, too, and the door took plenty of strength to open. Of course, that wasn't the end of it, and he wasn't surprised. Instead of a gaping maw filled with treasures, the opened door revealed a mechanical, steel surface and a velvet panel that wouldn't open no matter how hard Kurama tried to pry. To the left, there was a cleft in the face with five indents for fingerprint scanning, a number pad, and an iris scanner. Above the velvet were three LED lights, currently dark.

His fingers twitched at his sides. He really wanted to break open this safe. With a sigh, though, he made himself heave the door shut and listen for the sound of it locking once more. Something very important must be in this safe, and there was clearly a reason why Irie didn't want anyone to access it. Maybe he would get back to it eventually, but he shouldn't be breaking her trust on day one. That was just bad manners.

He quietly crept back out, making sure to lock the door and shut it silently on his way. Tiptoeing down the stairs, he froze when he saw the spaniel, Duchess, come into view. She spotted him and immediately went tense, barking loudly with growl in her voice. Looking over her shoulder, it was like she was trying to get someone's attention.

"Hang on, Duchess, I'm coming."

That was Irie, her voice coming from the second floor; he only heard it because the stairs down were so close. He vaulted himself over the side of the railing and ducked into the nearest door: the music room. Shutting himself quietly inside, with Duchess just on his heels, he darted over to the baby grand piano sitting alone in the corner, near the window.

It was a nice room, with plush red carpet and matching wallpaper and large set of paintings depicting a jazz ensemble. Hearing Irie's high-pitched chatter to the damn dog, he positioned himself at the piano, and hit a couple of random keys the second she opened the door.

"What?" she crooned to the dog, who was now in her arms. "What is it?" She looked around and tried not to laugh when she saw Kurama. "Aw, sweet girl, is he making your ears bleed with bad playing?"

"I must confess," Kurama laughed, standing up again, "I never picked up piano. I was always too involved in academics."

"Uh-huh." She set down Duchess and sent her away. "I was okay. Not like Ayame, but I still know a song or two." She glanced outside. The sun was down, and there was no moon out. "So, er… do you want to talk about the stuff… I mean, I should probably tell you what Koenma wants done- not that you don't know, because of course you would, but I mean Koenma doesn't know about how anything works and-"

She was so easily flustered when she wasn't trying to be authoritative, it was humorous. With a smile, he held up a hand to quiet her. "Show me the television, and we can go from there."

"Right."

He opted to not slide down the banister, as she chose, so he arrived in the living room minutes after she did. She had her hands gripping the sheet that was covering the TV, but her arms were shaking instead of tearing it away. Her eyes were glued to the flat expanse of white, filled with a hundred things that weren't actually in front of her.

"Ms. Endo?" She hadn't heard him. He cleared his throat. "Ms. Endo."

Kurama's voice made her jump, the second time. Glancing again at the machine, she slipped the sheet off of it and tossed it onto the couch, leaving the television exposed. It was a flat-screen and in good condition, though there was a smudge of something white on one of the edges. For now, the screen was black and lifeless. He wasn't even sure that it was plugged in.

"Well," she said slowly, cautiously backing away until the backs of her knees hit the edge of the couch, "This is the beast."

He didn't understand. Koenma had mentioned something about this being the key to finding new universes, his voice covetous when he had told Kurama and Botan. Irie spoke of it with spite and fear. Yet, it looked so… ordinary.

She must have seen the questioning look in his eye, and gave him a pitying glance. "I don't know how it works, either. I can't control when it turns on or where it goes, all I know is that I can walk in and come back out. I think it has something to do with individual energy signatures, but I never cared enough to test that theory. Which, I guess, is probably on your list of things to check out."

He felt uncomfortable. This human girl was talking to him like he was a repairman. "What do you mean by energy signatures?" he asked, sitting next to her while the pair studied the thing. If she wasn't going to touch it, then neither was he. Not without more information. "Like spirit energy?"

"I guess." She looked down at her hands. "I never really learned about all that, it was just something Kiya talked about."

"Yet you know that your floors can block others from sensing your energy?"

"Because the person who put it there told me that's how it worked. Not because I understand the damn subject." Frustrated, she shook her head a little. "We're getting off topic. I noticed that if you're from another dimension or universe or whatever, portals tend to turn on when you touch them. That's always how we managed to get back."

"So that's what this is?" he pressed. "A portal into another dimension?"

"Ha." Her voice was flat, like the light in her eyes as they rose back to the TV. "Another dimension? Try a thousand. Or all of them. The infinite number. I think, anyway, I've only been to about a hundred. But I've never found the same one twice."

He sat back and stared longer, his mind going into high gear. Well, that's why Koenma wanted it, he figured. If they could learn how to control it, Reikai could probably use it as a nonconsequential door in and out of Ningenkai and Makai, simpler to navigate than the current barrier between the two. And no one else could follow them. It would even be easier with Irie to tell them how to use it. That was Koenma's line of thinking, anyway.

"He won't be pleased that you don't know how to operate it," Kurama noted, more to himself than to her.

"What do I care?" she grunted. "It's not like he can take it from me."

"He could. You'd be surprised."

"You don't understand," she snapped moodily. "It can't leave the mansion."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It just can't, okay?"

He was watching her face, now. "It can't, or you don't want it to?"

Her heart raced in her chest, and her head started that familiar spinning. Taking a deep, shaky breath, she shot a glare towards the man sitting next to her, who seemed so intelligent and yet couldn't grasp the simpler concepts she presented. "I'm not having that discussion with you, Kurama," she replied, forcing her voice to soften in tone. "This is where the television is going to stay, and that's final. Run your tests. Make your reports. But woe to the idiot who tries to remove the portal."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Wow, I'm so sorry about this word count! I went back through this chapter several times to edit and it just got longer. It was fun, though! I love the design of this mansion and getting to describe it. The attic, of course, is my favorite part, aside from the camel knockers.

I'm probably not going to update it nearly this often, I just felt that the chapter was ready to get put up. Anyway, thank you all so much for reading! I really appreciate it! Lots of love, GrisailleDreams


	3. The Idiot Brigade's Bizarre Adventure

"Stop staring at it, if it bothers you so much."

Yusuke glared down at Irie, who was busying herself with a fisgo… smigmo… a blood pressure-taking tool, wrapping it around his bicep and squeezing the hand-pump.*

"I don't actually know how you live with that thing," he snapped, looking back at the embryo floating along in the tank, blind to the world around it. If he stared long enough, he could _swear_ it would twitch now and again.

"It's a long story," Irie brusquely replied, making a note on the clipboard in her lap. "Don't fuck with it, and I won't fuck with you."

"You're talking about it like it's a pet," Kurama observed, taking his own pulse and jotting down data on a second report in front of him.

She glanced at him, pursing her lips. "And _you're_ talking about it like it isn't here." She unstrapped Yusuke's arm and tapped him. "You're done. Go make yourself useful and pack some snacks."

Grumbling and rubbing his upper arm, Yusuke marched himself out of the lab, slamming the heavy metal door shut behind him. Irie rolled her neck and stretched her arms, then got up to settle herself down next to Kurama. "Your turn," she sang, rolling up his sleeve.

A little annoyed, he stopped what he'd been doing (filling out some more random biometric information on his form) to watch her. "I can do that myself," he firmly suggested. "I _am_ three thousand years older than you are. I know how to take my own blood pressure."

"Shut up and let me do the damn thing."

Rolling his eyes, he leaned back into his chair and waited patiently for her to finish. She was intensely stubborn about doing things, and became irrationally infuriated when someone offered to do something for her, like cook breakfast. "No, really," she'd hissed at Botan that morning, voice ice-cold, "I've got it. Go sit down, I'll yell when it's ready."

Even now, she'd insisted that Kaito forgo assisting Kurama with collecting the biometric data of the team and instead help Kuwabara make sure the bags were packed and ready to go. She would do it, instead. After all, Kurama didn't know his way around the lab. Even though she'd calmed down since the morning, he could practically see the tension radiating from her.

After a moment, he asked, "Did we _do_ something to irritate you?"

"You mean besides invade my home, disturb my peace, and eat my food?" she scoffed sarcastically.

"Where's all this _rage_ coming from?

"Nowhere."

She wasn't in the mood to talk, clearly.

Jotting down the numbers, she sighed and said, "Alright, your BP is normal. Good for you." Irie knit her brow when she read a few of his previous notes. "How the _hell_ is your heart rate that low?" she asked. "Mine's through the damn roof!"

"Nothing special," he replied curtly. Normally, he would have added a witty quip, but if she was only going to give him the briefest of phrases, he would do the same.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Kurama finishing off his paperwork while Irie started putting some of her medical equipment away.

"You know," she started, much more calmly"This was a good idea. Seeing if travelling between dimensions does anything to the physical body."

"Yes, well…" He sat his pen down and studied the way she precariously perched herself on top of a wheeled chair to reach a higher shelf. He couldn't think of anything to say, so he just trailed off and kept watching- not that she noticed.

Well, until she hopped down. Catching his eye, she blushed a little and glanced shyly away. A small, puzzled smile came to her lips, and she looked like she wanted to say something, but held her silence.

Raising an eyebrow, he grinned back. "What is it?"

"Have you ever considered getting gold contacts?"

He laughed, "No." _I don't need them_ , he thought to himself, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Not today.

Together, they trudged back up the stairs and made their way into the living room, where they called everyone in. It was time.

"Okay." Irie was on her knees behind the television ten minutes later, firmly pressing the plug to the socket to make sure it was all the way in. "If my theory's correct, and if what you've told me is true, then it should turn on once you push the button."

Their first project, of course, was to figure out how to turn the damn thing on and off. According to Irie, it hadn't functioned like an actual operating TV in years, but she was confident they could get it to work. Kurama waited for her to crawl back out and move behind the couch, where she all but cowered. Slowly, arm outstretched, he inched towards the machine. Because he was technically from Makai, his energy signature _should_ activate it, she'd said. His human form wouldn't interfere. Much.

He pushed the button inward and the screen slowly flickered into life. The sound coming from it was like static, but it was on no channel he'd ever seen before. It was pulsing, oozing like a pool of lava with the consistency of pudding, and the color of a jawbreaker: mostly white, splashed with flecks of blue and red.

Irie was suddenly at his side, and stuck her finger into- literally _into_ \- the screen, and when she pulled back out, she was covered up to the first knuckle with the stuff. With a bitter smile, swallowing down a laugh, she licked her finger clean and stuck her tongue out with a sour expression on her face, coughing as she swallowed.

"Yep," she spluttered thickly. "Definitely the portal." She reached for a worn and beaten journal and scribbled on a fresh page with a pen. " _Taste… still… the same…"_

"Was that really necessary?" Yusuke asked.

"Ah, 'tis tradition, my dear dumbass." Of course.

"Like your outfit?" he muttered venomously under his breath.

"Exactly."

It was a kind of ridiculous change from what she normally wore: a black t-shirt, dark jeans, and a matching denim jacket that was missing one arm. Most notable was a chain she was using as a belt that wrapped itself loosely down her right leg and disappeared into her boot. It was also the first time any of them had seen her wearing pants.

Glancing between the TV and the rest of the group, she softly offered, "I can go first, if you want."

Kurama raised his eyebrows, surprised. She looked pensive and was shivering, but her voice was determined. "You don't have to go at all," he said. "Yusuke, Kuwabara, and I are perfectly capable of managing."

Grimacing, she insisted, "Yeah, well, I can't in good faith let you idiots go on your own. Not the first time, any way."

"It's literally a world full of demons," he reminded her, "Your mansion security is very cute, and I'll admit that it slipped us up a little, but Makai is another game altogether."

"I know we _said_ it would probably be Makai," she brushed off, "But we don't know for sure."

Kurama set his jaw. She was terrible at taking hints. "I really would rather not have the group distracted with keeping an eye on you," he asserted.

"Why do you people think I need a babysitter?" Irie reached over and snatched up the sheathed machete on the coffee table, sliding it out a few inches to double check it; she'd spent _hours_ that morning cleaning the rust away.

He'd assumed that she'd brought it out to have on hand if something came out after they left.

There was a hole at the bottom of the handle that had a heavy clip attached to it, letting her easily latch it to the chain around her waist. Next came a leather bag that she went to sling across her body, but Kurama grabbed her upper arm and stopped her.

"No. You're staying here with Kaito and Botan."

"He's right, kid," Kuwabara chimed in. "You're not a fighter, and some of these demons would sooner barbeque you than let you walk around on their turf."

"Not that we'd let that happen," Yusuke added casually, "But it'll be easier if we didn't have to save your ass."

Irie looked between their matching expressions and took a mental step back. She'd told Koenma before that she wouldn't be responsible for these boys, so why was she trying to do so, anyway? Old habits died hard? _Damn_ , she cursed inwardly, _damn, damn, damn._ That wasn't it at all, and she knew it. She couldn't care much less about what happened to them.

Defeated, she shrugged the bag from her arm. "Alright, you got me." She tossed a small, disposable camera at Yusuke's head, though he deftly caught it with his hand. "Take pictures, though. I want to see what you come across." Pointing at the satchel dangling from Kurama's shoulder, she added, "There's an instant-developing Polaroid in there, in case you meet anyone interesting. I don't want to go out and get it developed."

Yusuke looked like he was going to start arguing again, but Kurama interrupted him with a nod. "We'll be sure to do so."

That was her cue to go into mother-hen mode, apparently, because she started fussing with their supplies and giving them last-minute instructions. "When you all get inside, don't lose sight of each other. You won't be able to see the other end until it spits you out, so just keep walking."

"If you run into trouble," Botan reminded them, looking concerned, "Remember the communicators I gave you! Call if you need us."

"But don't rely on us," Irie added darkly. "That's one of the tools Kurama's testing today. We don't know if the portal will keep us from passing messages back and forth."

"Which is why we have the Mejiru seals as a backup plan," Kurama calmly finished. As they'd done once before several years ago, he, Kuwabara, and Yusuke had stuck the tracking stickers onto Botan's shirt, labelled with their names to give her an idea of their physical condition.

"Again," Irie mumbled under her breath, "Assuming they work."

"I'd rather you not be away for longer than an hour," Botan requested. "Less than that, if you could. Just go in, confirm it's our Makai, and come back."

"The tunnel back home should look similar to this one," Irie instructed, flipping through her notebook to double-check her information. "It won't be in a television, probably, but it'll still be white and shiny. And it'll be somewhere around where you come out."

"Come back in an hour, take pictures, jump through a puddle of white goo to get back home," Yusuke summed up, "Got it, can we get going, now?"

Irie waved them off and joined Kaito on the couch while Botan threw her arms around the necks of her friends. "Be safe, boys," she wished them.

Kaito waved from his spot on the sofa, "Don't get eaten."

"Please," Kuwabara shrugged off, "Sensui scared me more than this stuff."

One by one, first Yusuke, then Kuwabara, then Kurama, they squeezed themselves into the screen of the television, vanishing into the whiteness without a trace. Botan saw Irie staring after them, clutching the notebook to her chest with trembling hands.

"You don't need to be _so_ worried," Botan soothed. "You haven't known them for _nearly_ as long as we have- they'll be perfectly fine."

"I know they will," Irie said thickly. "Of course they will." Botan saw the shake in her shoulders, but didn't catch the way the rims of her eyes were slowly turning red. Her limbs sagged, and the notebook slipped from her fingers as she quickly wove herself between the furniture to duck into the hallway. They heard a door slam upstairs, followed after a minute by the loud, pounding beat of bass-heavy music.

Botan scowled and held her arms akimbo. "She's almost as big a baby as Yusuke," she mumbled to herself. "I _rarely_ get to tag along, but do I complain?"

"Occasionally."

She picked up the notebook from the ground and leafed through it. It was one of those huge five-subject books that high schools loved to make their students use, and about three quarters of it had been filled up with blocks and blocks of text. The handwriting varied heavily from page to page early on, but it gradually blended into a single author. The rest of the pages were mostly blank, except for the same sets of words or phrases repeated in the same positions for recording things. Botan flipped back a few pages to the last one that was completely filled-in:

 _Date and Time: 10-13 - 13:04:35 ; Wednesday_

 _Writer: Who do you think?_

 _PCA Weather: Grey and gross_

 _Universe Label: PC-I 26.0_

 _New or Old: New_

 _Brief Description: I'm finally a goddamn Disney Princess_

It went on into more detail, written like a particularly lurid fairy tale: a princess, forbidden romance, a broken family, a war-torn country, and the writer-

Botan blushed and skipped down a few lines.

 _PC Alternus?: Yes; Shrimp sighted, goes by the name 'Perenna' (see above description)_

 _Side Effects or Powers Gained: None; Update, 6/3 - I have magic hands that glow when I sing. Oops._

Botan hadn't realized that side-effects of interdimensional travel were common enough to warrant their own line on a write-up. She took it upon herself to look through the others, not to be nosy (though that helped), but because she was starting to worry a little about her friends. Was something going to happen to them? Could she prepare for it?

"I'm not sure our host would appreciate you snooping through her things," Kaito interrupted. He was absently petting the cat, who was now curled up like a loaf in his lap.

Snapping the pages shut, Botan glowered in his direction. "... I hate it when you're right."

 _~The Idiot Brigade~_

If eating the substance that made up the portal was disgusting, travelling through it was a wholly different experience. It was clearly a non-Newtonian substance, and going in hard and fast was like breaking through a pudding skin: still unpleasant to touch, but at least there wasn't too much on your face.

Kurama was surprised to find he could stand upright. The world all around him was the same as the screen- white with some colored splotches, moving like a living but lethargic organism. His friends were staring at their surroundings, faces alternately confused, awestruck, and thoroughly repulsed.

"This sure ain't pseudo-space," Kuwabara noted, but he balked at the way his voice came out. It was like he was underwater.

Kurama tried to make a sound, and it came out in much the same way. In fact, all of his senses (save his vision, thankfully) were a little compromised. His ears were filled with something, muffling all around him so that he could only hear the amplified functions of his own body: his breathing, the way he swallowed excess saliva, his heartbeat. His tactioception and olfacoception had simply been turned off.**

Yusuke shivered uneasily. "Let's keep moving!" he shouted slowly, hoping his words would come across better. Luckily, Kurama and Kuwabara could read lips.

They broke into a sprint and kept up the pace, but the tunnel never seemed to move or changed: always the same, down to the blue and red streaks around them. He tried to think about how long they'd been moving, but something in his brain just wouldn't let him. Eventually, and it could have been ten hours or ten seconds, for all he knew, they were blinded by… not a light, just _whiteness_.

He tumbled to the ground, and even the great Bandit King Kurama couldn't keep his footing. He found himself face-first in a bush under a dark, starry sky, senses restored. Irie really hadn't been exaggerating when she said it would _spit_ them out.

Kuwabara grunted somewhere a few yards away. "Everyone okay?" he asked.

"Nothing bruised but my pride." Yusuke sat up, rubbing the back of his head. "Though my ears are still ringing."

"Are we in Makai?" Kurama asked, staggering to his feet and brushing the dirt from his sleeves. Though, he didn't think the trip here would be very appealing for Koenma. As much as he could understand a need for secrecy when travelling, Kurama much preferred going through the old border, where the Kekkai barrier used to stand.

"Why're you asking me?" Kuwabara grunted. "I ain't been there more than twice."

"Huh…" Yusuke planted his hands on his hips. "I don't know, Kurama… since when does Demon World have paved roads in the middle of the woods?"

Kurama followed the finger he pointed with. Indeed, there was what seemed to be a human-made highway, moonlight bouncing off the thick black tar, just meters away. Yusuke had a point. _Damn_.

"It's too early to give up," he insisted, waving them along as he pushed his way through the trees and stepped out onto the road. "Let's follow it and see where it leads." With a short laugh, he tried, "Maybe this latest king started having them built."

"Yeah, I'll believe it when I hear it from the bastard's mouth, myself," Yusuke said, following behind with Kuwabara. "I don't think we're where we wanted to go, guys."

Out in the open, they stood under a full moon with no other light. The road stretched in one direction, and curved around the other until it vanished behind the trees. Looking back, Kurama tossed a sprig of lampweed onto the ground, knowing they'd be grateful for it later.

"Hmm…" Kuwabara was looking back and forth between the ends of the road thoughtfully, considering one, then the other. Finally, he pointed down the straight-and-narrow path. "I think we should go this way, if we aren't going to go back."

"Lead the way, O Wise Compass."

"I swear, Urameshi-"

While they bickered and the group made their way down the lonely road, Kurama continued to set out lampweeds, spaced out enough that, hopefully, someone who saw them wouldn't think they were necessarily a trail. This highway felt longer than the portal to this particular universe, and Kurama thought to himself that Hiei probably would have been a useful addition to their team for this. As fast as he was, he'd be able to explore in a quarter of the time it was going to take Kuwabara and Yusuke. Kurama always slowed himself down for their benefit, even though Yusuke could probably match his pace by now.

They eventually found the twinkling of lights in the distance, and started running. The first thing they saw was a lone gas station on the side of the road, empty with flickering fluorescent lights inside. A clerk sat at the sales counter, bored and reading a magazine flipped open in front of him.

"Can you guys get a read on him?" Yusuke asked. "He looks human enough, but I've seen plenty of demons who could pass for human."

Kurama laughed quietly. "Like yourself?"

"Nah, the guy's definitely human," Kuwabara said, not having heard Kurama's joke. "Let's get out of here, we're not in Makai. We'll just have to try again later."

Yusuke and Kurama both agreed, but just as they decided to double-back, a classic, candy-apple-red truck pulled into the station, carrying a load of human teenagers (a handful of them sporting Kuwabara's Jelly Roll, all of them with his Duck's Ass) in the bed who honestly looked like they were in their twenties*. The one driving shoved his head, complete with a pompadour half a foot high, out of the open window and stared at the group, a cigarette hanging from between his lips.

"Yo," he called back to his passengers, "What's up with these guys?" Eyeing Kurama's hair, in particular, he added, "I ain't ever seen you freams around here before."

The six or so young men started hopping out of the truck, all wearing similar attire: leather jackets, tight, white t-shirts, dark jeans, and boots. They looked like an army of clones. One of them went to meet the attendant, who had just dashed out of the station building wearing his biggest smile.

"Look, punk," Kuwabara said, sizing up the kid in front, "We don't want any trouble, we're just passing through."

"Trouble?" The teenager put on a false face of surprise and looked back at his gang. "Who said anything about trouble? We just wanted to, ah, welcome you to the neighborhood." He looked caught Yusuke's glowering eye. "What're you lookin' at?" he challenged, trying his hardest to look physically larger than he was.

Smirking, Yusuke between his friends. "I just can't believe it. I've finally found a mug uglier than yours, Kuwabara."

"'Ey!" The driver grabbed Yusuke by the shirt collar and brought his face down until they were practically touching noses. "You're cruisin' for a bruisin' ya smartass."

"Hey, cool it, Scooch!" One of the driver's friends yanked him back. "Be cool!"

"I'm cool!"

"Let's go," Kurama muttered in Yusuke's ear, "Before something gets stirred up. We don't need to be here any longer."

"You talkin' about me, bundie?!"

"No!" Kurama quickly said with a smile, "Not at all!"

"C'mere," the lead greaser, Scooch, snarled, raising a hand threateningly, "No one's gonna be makin' fun of me and walkin' away with a clean face!"

Kurama ducked easily when the kid threw a punch at him, and that was his cue to turn around and start walking. Yusuke and Kuwabara quickly went after him, but the three of them had to stop again when they heard the sound.

 _Click! Click! Click! Click!_

The rhythmic noise was slow and plentiful, and the gang turned to see the gang of greasers prowling toward them snapping their fingers, with a look of pure murder in their eyes.

"Oh, my God, we're in West Side Story…" Yusuke droned. "Let's get out of here before someone breaks into a musical number."

The second he said that was the moment orchestra music filled the air without any particular source, and the greasers started singing. By that time, though, our heroes had started running. Someone had jumped back into the truck and cut them off, running them down the road away from where they'd arrived in this world. Faster and faster they went, passing by a sunny-looking sign that read: _Welcome to Crollis Ravine! Home of the Fighting Badgers!_ Eventually, they found themselves on a Main Street, of sorts. They'd left the truck and snapping greasers behind, but they were sure to still be following.

Kurama took in their surroundings. Dark and shut-up storefronts lined the street behind the vivid lamp posts, walls decorated with murals of advertisements for cigarettes and sodas. There appeared to be a well-lit diner a mile off, and even brighter lights behind the tall buildings suggested that the town wasn't completely deserted at this time of night.

He signaled for the others to follow him into a thin alley between a bakery and a hardware store, and they vanished beyond sight into the shadows.

"Are we just going to sit here 'til they give up?" Yusuke hissed.

"I'd rather not," Kurama whispered, "But unless you have a better idea…"

"Kuwabara, you go distract 'em!"

"What?!" Kuwabara glowered at them both. "Why me?!"

"Because you've got the whole fifties-biker-punk thing going on, you totally fit in here-"

"Says you, Urameshi, what about you? There's so much oil on your head, you're a hazard to wildlife!"

"You two stay here," Kurama cut in, "I'll come back once I know we can get away without being caught."

Mostly, he thought as he slipped back out into the open, he wanted to get away from the bickering. If they weren't careful, Yusuke and Kuwabara would probably end up giving away their position before they could get out. He meandered down the street, staying inconspicuous, if not out of sight. The night was quiet, but for the muffled sound of swing music coming from the diner. He hadn't been present in the human world for very long, all things considered, but he'd seen enough vintage images to know this universe was aesthetically identical to the United States in the nineteen-fifties. There were a handful of subcultures in Japan that drew certain aspects from the period, particularly the greaser phenomenon- just look at Kuwabara's hair. He was a little curious to see what the rest of it would be like.

Everything was so _idealized_ : not a scrap of litter or even a stray cigarette butt, even though smoking was clearly a popular hobby here. The windows were clean and filled with perfect displays in pastel candy colors, checkerboard patterns, and stripes. Not a vehicle to be seen. He wondered how busy it would be, come morning. Peeking into one of the shop windows, he saw an analog clock, pendulum swinging lazily along, that read ten-o'clock at night. Frowning, Kurama made a mental note to mention that to Botan; back in his world, it had been early in the afternoon when they left. Not that the sky didn't give it away, but even so.

Things lightened as he found himself in the still-populated part of town. He looked into the window of the diner as he was passing by, hearing the swing music from behind the glass, and at that moment, a young woman with a perky ponytail and a cherry-red cardigan looked up at him from under her tightly-curled bangs. She almost seemed to move in slow motion, that was how careful her movements were, as she arranged her face into an expression of perplexion. It was almost like recognition.

Or maybe that was because _he_ recognized _her_. Irie's twin stared at him from the other side of the glass, and he had the wits about him to grab the camera out of his bag. As he snapped the picture, happy the flash had been turned off, she started to stand up. The friends sitting with her looked back, and Kurama took the chance to duck out of the way and disappear into the clusters coming in and out of the diner. Glancing back, he saw her scanning the crowd, but her friends pulled her back. One of them asked her something, and she shook her head. As she gave them a smile, he read her lips. ' _Oh, nothing._ '

He crossed the road and gingerly waved the photograph around in the air while the image slowly appeared. It was good enough, he thought as he stowed it back into the bag, and he quickly made his way back to Yusuke and Kuwabara. It wasn't hard. They'd move back into the open, sitting on the wall and muttering back and forth. At least they'd stopped fighting.

"Can we get out of here, now?" Yusuke grumbled once Kurama came into view.

"Probably. I didn't see our 'friends' anywhere."

"Awesome." Kuwabara pushed himself from the wall and stretched. "For real, this time, let's leave. I swear, I keep hearing music that's not there."

Kurama gave him a thin smile. "I wouldn't doubt it." Waving his hand, he led the way and had them break into a run down the road, heading straight for the woods.

However, they had a welcoming committee waiting for them, with everyone carrying knives and bike chains and snapping the fingers of one hand. A few of them were carrying flashlights, all the better to chase the gang with as they vanished into the woods.

"These the guy, Scooch?" someone asked.

"These the guys, pal."

"We hold the ugly one, you punch?"

"Sounds like chili."

"Better do it before they cut outta here."

"Holy crap, guys, speak English," Yusuke muttered.

Kurama, Yusuke, and Kuwabara split up, making sure they kept the randomly-dispersed lampweeds in sight. A knife came whirring from the air and missed Kurama's ear by inches, sinking deeply into the trunk of a tree he darted around. The three of them came to the end of the lampweed trail, glad to be able to recognize something, and realized that they didn't really know where the return portal was. As at least thirty greasers swarmed all around them, the boys harriedly looked around, searching wildly for anything glowing and white.

Kuwabara pointed up. "Found it, I win!"

"Yeah, but does anyone have a bright idea to get up there?" Yusuke drawled, as the glimmering portal was twenty feet above their heads, nestled among the leaves of an oak tree.

"Tree-scaling is fastest," Kurama pointed out, "And we don't have time to argue about other options."

"'Ey," one of the greasers- he couldn't tell if it was one of the originals or not, they all looked the same, "What're you freams yappin' about? You'd better be sayin' your prayers, 'cause we're gonna give you such a poundin'-"

The three of them squirreled up the nearest trees, managing to hurdle over the heads of their would-be attackers. Kurama didn't think he could _be_ so happy to go back through this thing.

When they were spat back out into Irie's living room, they found the place quite deserted. The sky outside, as well as the room itself, were as dark as the universe they'd just left. This time, Kurama was more prepared for the landing, and remained upright while he grabbed a nearby chair for balance. He'd shaken awake a fluffy, grey-and-white cat, and sent her bolting from the room with a yowl and a terrified hiss. Yusuke had crashed into the coffee table, knocking it on its side and sending its contents sprawling across the floor, and Kuwabara tumbled into the waiting loveseat.

"What the shit-?" There was a familiar pounding of footsteps on stairs, and someone flicked on a light. Irie's face lit up, and she yelled up to the second floor. " _Botan! Your idiots are back!"_

"That's a warm welcome," Yusuke groaned, picking himself up off the floor.

Botan came flying down the stairs and crushed him into a tight hug. " _Yusuke_!" she cried out, squeezing her arms around his neck, "Oh my goodness, I was so _worried_ , you've all been gone for _ever_!"

"What time is it?" Kurama asked, shaking his head slowly. His ears still felt like they were full of water.

"About three in the morning." Irie had gone to him, eyes scanning him furiously, and she touched his shoulder. "Are you guys okay? The Mejiru seals have been blue all day, but even so..."

"Just tired, that's all." He mustered a smile. At least she was being nice. He glanced back; the television had gone still and dark.

"Good." Hesitating for only a moment, Irie slipped her hands around to his back and firmly pulled him down into a hug while Botan was fussing over Kuwabara. "I'm glad," she murmured against his shoulder. As quickly as she embraced him, she pushed away and inspected the other two before he had time to even think about the gesture. "What happened?" she asked. "I thought it was supposed to be a quick in-and-out? Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No." Yusuke sat down on the couch and started to tell the story of their mishap in that odd, odd world. Irie brought them all icy-cold water, which made them realize exactly how dehydrated they all were.

Once Yusuke got to the part where the trouble _really_ began, Irie just _couldn't stop laughing_. "I-I'm sorry," she cackled, "But y-y-you were run out of town by _what_?!"

"Fucking _greasers_!" Yusuke repeated shrilly, "Snapping their fingers like it was _threatening_ , or something!"

"Aw, Kuwabara," she cooed, trying to catch her breath, "You must have felt so at home."

He was too tired to say much, having sprawled out on the loveseat, so he merely presented to her his middle finger before letting his arm fall back down onto his torso.

She dissolved back into hysterics, and Kurama looked at her from the corner of his eye, since she wasn't paying attention. He could just _see_ her with a glossy ponytail and soft, feminine cardigan and natural makeup that would make her look doe-eyed. Innocent might be too far a stretch, though her flowing, vintage dressing gown made a good go of it. A quick shiver ran down his arms, and he shook off the thought. He didn't really want to associate Irie with that place. It was too strange, even for her.

Botan was disappointed to hear that the portal hadn't taken them to Makai, and Irie couldn't give an explanation for it outside of "Shit happens." While the former made notes, organizing a report for Koenma, Irie handed Kurama her old, fat notebook.

"Write it down," she demanded. "Everything. All three of you do it together. Don't worry about labelling or anything like that, I just want you to describe the universe."

Even after Botan had gone back to bed, Irie insisted that she stay with them while they write, requesting certain pieces of information that they wouldn't have otherwise thought about: smells, tastes, how time seemed to move. Of course, she asked the question that Kurama had been waiting for.

"Did you see anyone you know there? Or yourselves?"

"Nope," Yusuke immediately put in, leaning back and yawning loudly. "But Kurama got a better look at the place than we did."

As she raised her eyebrow at Kurama, he smoothly assured, "I didn't notice anyone familiar. No."

Irie looked disappointed. "Well, you would've known if you had," she relented. "Ah, well." Trying to repress the new smile creeping over her face, she continued, "That would've really 'razzed my berries,' you know-?"

Yusuke threw a decorative pillow at her face to stop her mid-sentence.

"If we're done here," Kuwabara said, rolling off the loveseat, "I'm going to try to get some sleep before the sun decides to rise."

"Yeah, me, too," Yusuke agreed. "And unless we're under attack or something, don't wake me up for another two days."

Irie jovially waved them away and took the notebook in her hands as the two plodded back up the stairs. While she combed over the page, Kurama waited until he heard the sound of a door closing upstairs before he asked his question.

"Have you ever met yourself?" he inquired slowly.

"Oh, yeah. A ton of times."

He was taken aback by her casual reply. "... And?"

She shrugged, making a few edits to the story the young men had written. "They were okay, I guess. They were me. Just… a little different."

"What did it feel like?"

A muscle in her jaw twitched as she clenched it, but other than that, she didn't react. "It's like getting punched in the gut," she said in a low voice, "Like all the air gets knocked out of me. It doesn't matter what she looks like. I see her, and I just _know_." She glanced at him and raised an appraising eyebrow. "If you spotted that universe's version of Kurama, then that's probably not how you would feel. It's different for everyone."

"I didn't-"

"I know. I can tell by looking at you." She sat back and skimmed a few of the older entries. "Once I was on my own, that was my main area of 'study,' if you will. Parallel selves. I know the signs when someone has met one of their doppelgangers."

"Oh?" Kurama gave her a halfhearted grin. "And how do you know I'm not just hiding it particularly well?"

"You're not on-edge," she replied, curling her legs underneath her in the armchair. "You don't look haunted or confused, or like you don't know where or who you are, anymore. It's hard to hide if you've never experienced it before, and harder to hide it from someone who has. You aren't _rattled_ , Kurama."

"Is that what it was like for you? After the first time?"

"She certainly made me question my place in the universe." Irie put on a wry smile and chuckled. "But we were the same age, my friends were with me, and we had a lot of time to adjust to our doubles, so that made it a little easier. I've learned to distance myself from them- me- mentally. Whatever they do in their worlds has little effect on what happens to me here." With a heavy sigh, she turned her head to the dark screen. "Maybe it's better that I didn't go. The last time I was in a musical universe, I couldn't stop singing for three months."

He laughed, and made the conscious decision to not show her the photograph stashed away in his bag. "What a nightmare for your friends," he joked lightly.

"It _was_!" Her eyes widened, and she nearly leaped up from her seat. "I wasn't allowed to even _talk_ to them until it wore off! Even afterwards, they always hated it when I sang, so I had to stop."

"And now?" He was getting concerned; she was starting to look positively distressed.

She settled back into the chair and looked away from him, ashamed. "I'm sorry. I try not to let anyone hear it, so if you've had to, I apologize." Kurama had, in fact, _not_ heard anything of the sort, but as he was about to tell her so, she got up. "It's late- uh, early, I suppose…" For the clock on the wall was reading five. "I'm going to go back to bed, if you don't mind."

"No, of course not." His eyes followed her out of the room, and he thought about how she jumped in exactly the same way as the other one had.

The next morning, while he was walking around the flower garden to clear his mind, he thought he heard a light, thin voice warbling in the air from the peach orchard...

* * *

 ***** "Sphygmomanometer" is the word he's trying to think of. Irie had said it before, but he couldn't remember.

 ****** Technical terms for the senses of touch and smell respectively

 **Author's Note _:_** Hello, again, everyone! I hope you enjoyed the 50s slang, I sure know I had fun looking it up. Fun fact, Kuwabara's hairstyle is technically known as a Jelly Roll, and the part on the back of his head is called a Duck's Ass. Special thanks goes to my bestie for editing this chapter, because God knows I couldn't look at it after I was done reading.

Another fun fact, because I couldn't figure out how to slide this in there: Yusuke only knows about that musical because it's the only one Keiko could ever get him to watch with her.

Thank you again for reading! I hope the next chapter goes a little smoother. I've been distracted writing ahead ;; oops. As always, though this is a personal story for me, I love hearing your thoughts and constructive criticisms! Lots of love, GrisailleDreams~


	4. Rats in a Maze

A few weeks went by after the fiasco with the television, and none of them were planning on messing with it again. It was clearly out-of-control, even beyond Irie's rudimentary knowledge, and Kurama didn't want to risk another venture. Random portal-hopping would be pointless, and he told Koenma as much when the prince contacted Botan to ask why there hadn't been any headway.

One weekend, the gang decided to take it upon themselves to go into town for some extra grocery shopping; Irie was determined to stay behind, adamant that she'd bought enough supplies to last them the entire month. She had zero interest in leaving, but was mostly just being stubborn. Kurama volunteered to stay behind to keep an eye on things. He found himself in the kitchen, helping her make lunch for just the two of them.

Irie was humming some slow, Broadway ballad while she fussed over a couple of fish fillets frying in a pan. The sound of oil crackling, mixed with the scent of lemon, honey, and pepper, made Kurama feel warm. Like he was back home. It was a comforting feeling as he chopped carrots.

"Did you call your mother?" Irie suddenly asked.

He was surprised she'd remembered him mention wanting to. "Oh, yes. An hour ago." He dumped the carrots into a bowl of other sliced vegetables and moved next to her to start steaming.

"How is she?"

"Fine, thank you."

"That's good."

They kept cooking in silence, and a thought occurred to him. "What about _your_ mother, Irie?" he asked. "You've never mentioned your parents once."

"They live in Yokohama," she said simply. "Moved there after I moved into the mansion. Mama wanted to be closer to Tokyo, and I can't blame her. She found a really good job out there, too, and so did Papa."

Kurama wondered how she could say it so matter-of-factly. "And they were fine with leaving you here? Over a thousand kilometers away?"

She shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal. Mama was born in America, so the distance between here and her new home probably seems like nothing to her." Well, that explained a few things. Like her eyes.

"America? What brought her here?"

With a small laugh, Irie glanced at Kurama and replied, "Papa. They met in college. He was doing some study abroad thing or something, and I guess they hit it off."

"It must have been hard for her," he noted, "Japan is practically a world away from America, in terms of culture. Not to mention the language."

" _Everything's_ a world away from America," Irie said with a snort. "Any time I've been there to visit my grandparents, it was like I was shut off from the rest of Planet Earth. I couldn't even tell you what was going on in Canada." With a sigh, she split the fish out onto two plates and leaned against the counter. "What about you, red? _You're_ clearly not a genetic native."

He blew a chunk of bangs that had fallen into his eyes from his forehead. "My father. His mother was a foreigner, like yours. Not American, though, I don't think." Kurama set the final timer they needed before lunch would be officially finished, so he could sit back, too. "I heard the last owner of your home was American."

"Who? Mrs. Wembley?" Irie had to think for a moment. "Oh, yeah, she totally was."

"Did you know her?" Kurama's interest was suddenly piqued. He knew the mansion had been left to Irie, but he had assumed it was through less than legal means.

"She was my English teacher in middle school."

The egg timer went off, distracting her, but Kurama wasn't finished with this conversation. "How did you manage to convince your _English teacher_ to leave you a mansion in her will?"

Dumping a portion of steamed veggies onto one of the plates, she shoved it at him without meeting his eye and said, "A _lot_ of broken locks."

 _~Irie, In the Mansion, Long Ago~_

 _I propped myself up, groaning, in the battered floral couch that was in the living room back then, my four friends scattered all around me in various states of disarray. Masanori, dearheart, was shoving Mitsu off of him with a huge grunt._

" _Jesus freaking Christ," he moaned, "I feel like I got hit by a Mac truck."_

" _You're lucky," I complained, "I've still got the damn coconuts ringing in my ears."_

 _We all looked at each other in silence: dirty, bloodied, generally unkempt. Alive. The most alive we'd ever felt in our short lives that already had been "too long." Ayame was the first to crack a smile. Meeting Shinjuko's eyes, they both started giggling. Then I snorted trying to hold it back, and the five of us finally devolved into hysterical laughter. Mitsu rolled off the coffee table and hit the floor with a loud_ -thud!- _, which made things that much funnier. We didn't notice that the sky was still bright, though we thought we'd been gone for hours._

 _Mrs. Wembley- we weren't allowed to call her by her Japanese name when we were in her English class- shuffled into the living room as fast as her severe arthritis would allow. "What happened?!" she fretted in her creaking voice. Her watery blue eyes glanced fearfully at the television, then back at us. "It…" Back to the TV. Putting on a stern expression, she demanded that we tell her what we'd just been through._

 _We were thirteen. A relatively rebellious thirteen, but harmlessly so, and this was back when we still generally respected authority. Before we learned. So, we told her, regaling her with our new tale of adventures in a world full of knights, jewel-encrusted goblets, and killer rabbits. How Mitsu had outwitted the Black Knight and cut him to ribbons while his back was turned, and how I'd traveled to a castle of nuns with a boy-man too soft for his sword. Most importantly, of course, was how Masa and Mitsu had stolen a magical blade named Excalibur out of the hands of an unwitting king. It had skittered across the room coming out of the TV screen, and was now out of everyone's reach._

 _Our teacher listened to us gravely, and remained silent for a little while longer after we'd finished. We all looked so proud of ourselves. We felt so accomplished! A handful of kids from the middle of Bum-Fuck Nowhere, Japan, taking on an army of angry knights! If that didn't say something about our character, if that wasn't enough to define our clear greatness, then what ever could be?_

 _I glanced at Shinjuko and grinned. "Do you remember the wizard? And he said-"_

"' _It's got teeth like_ this _!'" she finished in a bad Scottish accent, and we both held curled fingers to our jaws, not realizing that we'd remembered the phrase wrong. "Look at the booooones!" Everyone laughed, except for Mrs. Wembley._

" _Alright, children," she sharply insisted, "Your study session is over. I'll see you all in class tomorrow." Eyeing the five of us critically to make sure we were packing up our things (and putting the living room back together), she added in a low tone, "I don't ever want to hear about the TV again. And from now on, we'll have study sessions in school, after classes are done."_

 _We argued with and complained to her, not understanding why she was taking it so seriously. We'd lived. Nothing bad happened. None of us were injured, and it had been fun! We'd_ _ **lived**_ _. But she didn't want to hear another word. We didn't know that she knew exactly what the television was, and how lucky we were to come back home in one piece. She practically shoved us out of the front door, ushering us back into her car. She would take us home, herself, and she kept the sword._

 _Of course, we didn't listen. Why would we? We were a little reserved about it at first, but Shinjuko convinced us to start sneaking back into the mansion, furiously riding our bikes in the dead of night and picking open a window to sneak inside. We learned to be quiet and undetectable. The best ways to move things without looking like we moved them. And. most importantly, how to survive flawlessly in the new universes we explored._

 _~Back to the Present~_

"Of course, when we were children, we loved fucking things up for others," Irie continued. "We didn't understand consequences. These worlds were… they were like toys, for us. Games. Virtual reality, in which nothing had consequences. The people we hurt weren't real, so what did it matter? Nothing was at stake in our minds, not even our moral compasses." She bit her lip and stared at the plaque just in front of her. "So we kept at it, even after we started high school. And we were so wrong." She glanced into the hall, like she could see through the wall and into the living room. Closing her eyes, she murmured in a low voice, "That television is nothing but evil."

Kurama watched her shove her half-eaten meal an arm away. "It seemed more annoying than evil," he offered.

"You haven't gone through it enough. It changes you." She swallowed thickly. "It turns you into a beast."

"You shouldn't exaggerate," he joked as she got up and grabbed her plate again, "It's bad manners."

"Are you done?"

With his meal, yes, but before he had time to say that, she snatched away his empty plate and took it to the sink. He heard the water start to run, but not the sounds of cleaning. Looking over his shoulder, he saw her standing there, staring blankly at the stream running from the tap. Her hands held a plate, but she might as well have been holding air. It dropped to the bottom of the sink with a loud _clatter!_ when she was startled by a blaring noise coming from the wine-colored velvet of her dress. A wet hand dove into the hidden pocket and desperately drew out a small, blue handheld device that was flashing, a lot like her secret security panel. Her breath hitched, and she fled.

"Irie?" Kurama followed her at a brisk walk to the basement, where she took the stairs three at a time down. "What's wrong?"

But she didn't answer. Instead, she wrenched open the laboratory door, releasing bright, flaring lights and loud wails of warning. Kurama followed her inside and watched as she pressed her hand against the glass of the float-tank standing in the corner. She looked distressed.

"No, little guy, don't do this today," she murmured. The blob-thing was shuddering, jostling the sparse wires taped to its lumpy form. " _Fuck_."

Irie went to the control center hooked up next to it and tapped away at the keyboard while Kurama approached her gingerly. "Do you want me to help?" he asked, though he had no idea what he could possibly do. "What's going on?"

"Vitals are crashing," she grunted brusquely. "It does this sometimes, the hormones get out of balance easily and it's not…" She trailed off, lost in thought. "Crapbaskets."

"Irie, what _is_ it?"

Again, she ignored his question, this time in favor of hitting a few more buttons until one of the lights stopped flashing. Satisfied, she said, "That should keep you stable for a few minutes…" Turning around, she told Kurama, "You need to move." Irie didn't wait, either, and elbowed him away so she could get back to the door. "Watch him, I need to grab something upstairs."

As the click of her heeled shoes vanished out the door, Kurama dared to look back at the poor creature trapped within the thick, glass tube. The shivering subsided a little, and he saw some dark patch through the translucent skin pulsing like a heartbeat. It was slowing down. But he could see why Yusuke hated it so much. Those black eyespots seemed to follow him, no matter how he changed position. If it was stable, now… It was fine. He turned his back on it and left the lab.

He found Irie digging wildly through the entertainment center upon which the thing was perched, throwing open cabinet doors and drawers, searching desperately for something. "Where did I put those _damn bottles?!_ " she hissed. Her shoulder rammed into his knee and jostled him against the television. It flickered into life, or into static, anyway. "Watch it!" she spat angrily as her elbow, this time, jammed into his shin. "What are you even doing?! I told you to keep an eye on him!" In her fist, she clutched a tiny vial of bright pink liquid.

Kurama stumbled back and felt one arm sink into the weird portal-pudding- it hadn't been static, after all. As Irie rose to her feet, his hand locked onto her bicep, desperate to keep from falling back any further. Unfortunately, he only succeeded in pulling her in with him.

" _No!"_ he heard her shriek before the world went quiet and bright.

 _As they walked, he could feel her screaming at him, hurling curses meant to kill towards him. They vibrated through his mind like physical blows, and his heart had dropped into his stomach. Not for the thing they'd left behind that she was trying to save, for that was obviously what she was upset about, but because he felt remorseful for bringing her here. He liked her, when she was in a good mood. He hadn't realized it until this second, but he had wanted to keep her away from this machine._

' _I'm sorry,' he thought, and he wouldn't remember to say it to her later._

Kurama landed unceremoniously in the midst of a small, dark room that felt very cramped: stacks of chairs brushed the ceiling, shoved against filing cabinets and empty shelves. He was sitting on some kind of table, or maybe a desk? And it wasn't the only one.

While he was still reeling from the unexpected landing, Irie's head popped out from underneath his perch. " _Shit_ ," she cursed in a low voice. "Kurama, we've gotta get out of here."

"What?"

She scrambled out from where she'd fallen and grabbed his hand, yanking him to his feet. "Oh my God, this isn't the time," she chided. Panic filled her features as she glanced about, taking in their surroundings: now that his eyes had adjusted, it looked like a storage room in an office. She propped open the door and peeked outside cautiously. "It's empty" she whispered over her shoulder, "Come on, we have to find the portal before anyone sees us."

It took him a second longer to feel what she was feeling. An intense miasma of demonic energy flooded the air around him. Of course she was on-edge. Though she'd spent the last month with a demon under her roof, this was enough to spook even the bravest human.

They slipped out from the door and into a long, brightly lit hallway that echoed with each step. Irie, as quiet as a cat, inched open every door to take a look, and every time, she pulled away shaking her head. Where was that damn return portal? Kurama helped as best he could, taking the other end, but his attempts were just as fruitless. She ran to him when finished on the balls of her feet, looking desperate.

" _Anything_?" she hissed. He shook his head, and her fingers worked their way into her bangs, twitching. "Shit, _shit_!" she muttered.

"You said it yourself," he quickly murmured, "It can't be too far from where we came out." Freezing, Irie slowly pulled her hand from her scalp and clenched it into a fist at her side. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Okay," she exhaled, "Okay. Let's keep going. We'll work the same hall, I don't want to split up or get separated."

"Perfect."

They rounded the corner only to see, much to her dismay, that there weren't any doors down this hall, only windows. Irie couldn't resist looking outside, and Kurama did the same. The cloud-covered sky was grey and drizzling, as dreary as the buildings. He recognized the city as Tokyo, but only because he saw Tokyo Tower off in the distance. Half of the block around them was crumbling into rubble without a person in sight, clearly abandoned. A truck rumbled past, over the broken road, and Kurama's eyes widened when he saw a passel of demons sticking their heads out of the windows.

"Demons in my world…" Irie breathed out beside him, pursing her lips.

"Be glad this _isn't_ your world," he said grimly.

She sharply pulled him away and led him further down the hall. "Come on, staring out a window isn't going to help us. Find a door, a staircase, anything. What use _are_ you?"

"More than you if we bump into demons."

"Shut up and be grateful I can run in heels."

They dashed down the hallway, and he was surprised how quietly she could run, even if she couldn't keep pace with him. Luckily, they saw a sign that read "STAIRS" at the end, and Irie looked happy, or at least more alert. But she gasped, and the two stopped and backed up a few meters when the door swung open.

Demons. Motherfucking demons. Big, grey, burly ogre-looking brutes with jarring tusks and huge, feet like an elephant's. They were vaguely dressed as security guards with the classic police caps and riot sticks clutched in their hands.

"Hey, who're you?" one of them grunted.

Kurama, on an impulse, stepped in front of Irie and put on a false smile, but Irie beat him to the punch. "We're from accounting," she brightly said, peering from behind him and grabbing his hand. "Exploring the building while on break. You know." It was the worst cover-story Kurama had ever heard.

A silent exchange went between her and the guards. One glanced at Kurama, then to their interlocked hands, and raised his eyebrow when he looked back at her. She tossed him a wink and a small, coy smile, and the ogre laughed.

"We won't keep ya, then," he said jovially, waving them off. "Get back to work. Crazy kids."

The two ogres plodded around the other corner, grunting to each other and occasionally breaking into chuckles. Irie let out her sigh of relief as they past and released her grip on his hand. "Oh, thank God," she said under her breath.

"How did that work?" Kurama whispered, watching her take the lead again.

"Ayame once said that every business has accounting. And I was hoping your stink would hide my human… ness."

Trailing behind her, he shook his head. Stink? If she was talking about his energy signature, that's not how it worked. Or was it? He was starting to learn that other worlds didn't seem to entirely adhere to the physics of their own. The guards had accepted their excuse easily enough, or perhaps they were just exceptionally stupid. They caught a glimpse of those ogres on their way towards the door, who looked over their shoulders. Irie waved and gave them a friendly grin, but it fell from her face when one of the demons sniffed heavily at the air, and she figured out that she was much too close.

"I know that smell…" the demon said thoughtfully. His eyes snapped onto her, predatory and fierce. "Human. Get it."

Without another word, Kurama fluidly shoved her out of the hallway, practically down the stairs, and slammed the door behind her. She tried the knob and screamed, " _Kurama! Open the damn door!"_ She heard him grunt, and the crack of a whip, followed by the heavy sounds of fighting and " _You're not from fucking accounting!_ " Her heart practically stopped. Not again.

Throwing herself down the stairway, she bypassed the second floor, the first, until she came to the basement, a floor that would have been pitch-black if not for the multiple, colored service lights. Whipping through the door, she ran, ducking away from stray pipes and wires, looking everywhere she could for- aha, there it was! A small room was tucked away among the mess, full of computer and camera monitors that hurt her eyes. Still, she scanned the cameras, until she found the two that showed Kurama.

" _Shit, shit, shit_ ," she whispered to herself, furiously typing on the keyboard. She hadn't tried to override a computer in _years_. That was always Shinjuko's job. Her eyes switched between the computer and Kurama, and she prayed that she'd be quick enough. Something heavy shifted in her pocket, and she remembered the bottle. Her face went white, and the earlier panic started to add itself to the current. She had to go faster.

 _~Kurama~_

The thorns dug into the ogre's flesh as Kurama pulled sharply, ripping away a forearm and splattering blood across the wall. The demon howled, and the second charge Kurama angrily, screaming and brandishing his club. It was hard to avoid, since the hall was relatively narrow, but he managed to sidestep his way into a grazing blow to his side, rather than a harsh one to his stomach. While his back was turned, the freshly-injured ogre pounded down the hall and gored him with a tusk. Kurama let out a strangled grunt, pulling forward to free his shoulder blade. He prepared another strike with his whip, but pain cracked through his skull, and Kurama found himself on the ground. The two ogres loomed over him, and he feigned unconsciousness.

"What should we do with him?"

"Eat him?"

"Nah, he ain't human."

"We should kill him, anyway. Bastard took my arm! Besides, _she_ wouldn't want an intruder to live."

"Good point."

"You fools."

The voice was cold, cool, and collected, and very, _very_ familiar. Kurama's eye cracked open a sliver and he saw a small, dark figure making its way slowly towards them.

"Ma'am!" Both ogres stood at attention, saluting with their clubs. "Greetings, your Excellence!"

"Step aside." The speaker was feminine, and peered down at him from ruby-red eyes, but it was the tight knot of seafoam hair that rested at the nape of her neck that made him recognize her; the navy-blue kimono was throwing him off a little, along with his throbbing head. "What have you done?" she chided through gritted teeth. "He's on the list. You aren't to touch him. You should have been given his image during orientation."

"Y-yes, Ma'am!" one of the guards stammered, "Forgive us, Lady Yukina, we weren't aware!"

"Clearly. Oafs." Yukina made no move to help him, but calmly watched his bleeding form and shallow breathing. "It's your own fault, Kurama. I don't see why you still bother with that pathetic human form."

What in the _world_ was going on? His mind raced, or it tried to. Not once had he ever heard Yukina speak like this to anyone. She sounded more like Hiei, than anything.

"Leave him be, gentleman," she insisted. "Walk me to the meeting room on Level Four."

"Yes, Ma'am! Right away, Ma'am!"

"Ugh, can't you stop that? I find the smell of ogre blood nauseating."

"Y-yes, Ma'am."

They left Kurama bleeding out in the middle of the hall, and only when he heard the door shut behind them did he sit back up. Blood had pooled under his back, but, all in all, it didn't feel too bad. It was better than what he'd suffered during the Dark Tournament.

Footsteps pounded down the hallway, and he simply sighed and prepared himself mentally for another fight. He wasn't entirely sure he'd be up to it, physically. Luckily, he saw Irie round the corner.

"Oh, _Christ_ , Kurama!" She helped him stagger to his feet, and her eyes widened at the size of the stain across the back of his shirt. "Oh my God-"

"It's not that bad."

"' _Not that bad_ -?'"

"Did you find a way out?" he interjected.

She bit her lip and gingerly started herding him down the hall. "Yes and no. I found a way out of the _building_ , but not back home."

He wanted to argue, and she saw it on his face- they'd bought a little extra time, they could use it to search for the portal. And he could absolutely tell that she wanted nothing more than to get back home, to deal with whatever emergency she needed to take care of before he literally dragged her here. Kurama saw her bite her lip, and he knew she wanted to agree with his unspoken insistence. But the room started spinning after he took a few steps. Irie's eyes snapped to the floor. He was leaving a trail behind.

"Get patched up, first," she reaffirmed, however grudgingly, "Then we'll worry about home. Thank God I saw them leave you in the security cameras, I was getting nowhere with a distraction..."

She brought him to a freight elevator and mashed the button for the first floor, where they came out to a loading dock in the open air. Irie blanched and shivered as the cold, misty rain hit her skin. She'd frozen, just between the overhanging ceiling of the dock and the sky. Kurama rolled his eyes and nudged her forward, jumpstarting her jerky pace.

"You're useless," he teased, trying to smile. It came out like a grimace.

"Yeah," she hissed, tugging his arm over her shoulder when she saw him lose balance, "Says the guy who had to be saved from ogres."

"I had the situation perfectly under control."

"Whatever."

Both of them were glad for the rain, which would wash away Kurama's blood in time. They limped down the empty block until they found what Irie deemed a "perfect hiding spot," and that was a pizzeria.

"It has power," she pointed out, jerking her finger to a red security light inside, "Power means the freezer's running, and there's probably edible food inside in case we have to stay the night. If we're lucky, there'll be running water to boot."

The problem was unlocking the door, but Kurama had energy enough to pick it with a plant: he carried a few assorted seedlings in his pockets at any given time, and made this one grow until the vine activated the lock and the door popped open. They ducked inside, and Irie helped him into a chair.

The pizzeria had clearly been abandoned in a rush- there was a stale, moldy hunk of pizza dough on a wooden table, right next to a long knife with a handle on either side that was starting to rust. One of the tables had been tipped over and lost a leg, and part of the oven was melted. Irie started digging around behind counters.

"First aid kit, first aid kit…" she murmured frantically, shivering while the rain dried on her shoulders, " _Shit_. It's gone."

Kurama asked, "How do you know where to look?"

She popped up from behind the register. "I worked at a place like this when I was in college for a few months." Wrinkling her nose, she pawed at the spoiled dough on the back table until it dropped into a trashcan she'd kicked over.

"What about that bottle you grabbed back home? Do you still have it?"

"That's not what it's _for_." She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to collect herself. "Okay. I didn't want to do this." Irie hopped over the counter and sat herself down in the chair next to Kurama. "Move, I need to get a look at that."

He swung his legs over so she had free access to his back, and he gingerly unbuttoned his shirt until he could shrug it from his shoulders until the top of his torso was exposed. She gasped. "It probably looks much worse than it is," Kurama assured. "I promise, I've had worse."

With a gulp, she shakily said, "I swear, if you tell me ' _it's just a flesh wound_ ,' I'll slap you. If it had been two inches to the right, it would've severed your fucking spine. You're lucky it didn't puncture a lung." Her hands rested against him, and she closed her eyes, breathing deeply and ignoring his painful wince. She began to sing. Her voice was deep and fluid, like a steady river, and not what he'd expected at all. " _Blume, leuchtend schön, kannst so mächtig sein. Dreh die zeit zurück , gib mir was einst war mein._ "His flesh glowed under her touch, and started knitting back together, much to his surprise. She wasn't even looking, too deep in her own concentration. " _Blume leuchtend schön, lass mich nicht allein . Halt das Schicksal auf. Gib mir was einst war mein. Was einst war mein..."_

The light faded slowly, leaving his back warm, as if it had been bathed in sunlight. "How did you do that?" he asked, reaching back to inspect it. There wasn't a trace of injury left, not that he could feel.

Irie flushed and swatted his hand away so she could slide his shirt back up. "I may or may not have eaten something I shouldn't have," she admitted sheepishly. "It was a long time ago. I didn't even know I could do it until well after the fact, anyway. Learning the incantation was entirely an accident."

"You learned German by accident?" he asked ironically, turning the other way so they could look at each other while they spoke.

She huffed. "I don't _know_ German, dingus. Just the song. In a weird twist of fate, I saw Kiya post the lyrics on FriendSplash and decided to look up the song. Apparently, it's from a folk tale or something. YouTube started playing, and my hands started glowing. Fastest scar remover I've ever found, actually." At the look he gave her, she flushed and defensively spat, "I have cats."

He watched her move away, and wondered if _every_ subject had to be touchy. "That's the first time I've heard you mention Toriaka since you met Koenma."

"I don't like talking about her."

"I can see that." Kurama watched her lean against the cool window, her breath turning to fog against the glass. She was watching the rain, which had picked up enough to be real water. "Why not? From what I heard, you were close."

Her lip found its way between her canines. "We were."

"Is having a conversation with you _always_ like pulling teeth?"

"We had a…" She searched for the right word. "...a _falling out,_ okay? It was nasty, and I don't like talking about it." Irie's eyes darted back and forth between the raindrops, counting them. Anything to keep from thinking about it.

Kurama remembered Kiya Toriaka by watching Irie- the two looked similar, between the nose and chin. Especially the way they smiled. Toriaka had been wilder, more vivacious by a solid kilometer and far less volatile, with tawny-brown eyes and a confident stride. Awkward in school, like most human teenagers, but she'd gathered a close-knit group over time. When she bumped into Yusuke, that group only grew. Like him, she and her best friend Nanami had a way of drawing others to them like otherworldly magnets, through the sheer force of their personalities. Also like Yusuke, both of them had a touch of demonic blood running through their genome. Though they'd met Yusuke first, most of their time involved with Reikai was ultimately spent with other demons- namely Jin, Chuu, Touya, and the rest of their circle.

But while Kurama had known Toriaka and Nanami, albeit briefly, he'd obviously never met Irie, before. He couldn't even recall her being mentioned. There had been too much excitement for the two girls with newfound powers, probably.

He furrowed his brow. "You sound resentful."

"Of course I'm resentful," she relented, almost explosively so. "For years, I was one of her closest friends! She was definitely _mine_ , that girl knew every damn thing about me, and dammit if I didn't love her. She was like the big sister I never had! Then she met _Yusuke_ , and _you_ , and all the others, and suddenly she and Nanami had more in common with this punk who didn't make it into high school than they did with me. And I tried _so fucking hard_ to hold onto them both, to keep everyone, and I just made things worse, and I… I felt so…" She broke off, biting back hot, angry tears.

He slowly shook his head. Humans. _Honestly_.

"Is that why you're so difficult?" he asked, moving his chair to sit next to her. "Why you'll lash out at _Botan_ , of all people, when we're just trying to be friendly? Your life is too short to be dwelling on feeling-"

" _Discarded_."

She hung her head and curled her fingers back into her bangs, her other hand white-knuckling the seam of her dress. That hadn't been the word he was preparing to say. Irie's shoulders sagged and started shivering, and when he heard her sniff, he tentatively put an arm around her. Her crying sounded horrifying; it was a lot of breath-holding, trying both to calm herself down and keep from making a sound, and it sounded like she was struggling for oxygen. Her voice came out in tiny, intermittent squeaks. Very suddenly, once she'd calmed some, she straightened up, and glanced uneasily at him, shoving his arm from her back. Her eyes were greener when they were tear-stained, almost the same color as his.

"Okay, enough crying," she sniffed, pawing at her face until it tried. "I can't be crying while we're hiding from demons with no way home." She looked towards the kitchen dolefully. "What are we going to do? If we want another shot of finding the return portal, we have to get back into that… place, somehow."

"I might be able to get back in," Kurama said thoughtfully. "Yukina said-"

"Who?"

"Yukina. She's another friend of ours, and she said that I'd been put on some kind of list, that the security guards weren't allowed to touch me."

"Didn't stop them from ripping your muscles to pieces," she scoffed, getting up and pushing past his seat.

"Irie, it's perfectly logical." He watched her hop behind the counter again and inspect the double-handled knife, again. "Think about it: they didn't turn on us until they figured out you were human. If I were to transform into Yoko Kurama-"

" _Who_?"

"My demon form. _Focus_. I'll be much more likely to get inside as a demon, understand? Then I can hunt for the portal, return for you, and we can leave."

"I don't like it," she protested, shaking her head while she gave the long knife a test swing. "We're woefully unprepared, Kurama, and you _know_ what happens to people who split up in horror movies."

Rolling his eyes, he sighed, "But we're _not_ in a movie, and Yoko is tough. I'll be in and out and back for you in no time at all."

"And what are you going to do when another pair of ugly idiots leaves you for dead and shoved in a cubicle with no way to contact me?" A single inch of the blade sunk deep into the wooden table with a thick _twang_ as the rest of it wiggled. Irie's hands were planted firmly on either side of it while she glowered at him. "I'm not going to sit here waiting for you. My hair'll fall out from stress and I do _not_ want to waste my Angelic Pretty cash on wigs. I've already got to replace this goddamn dress."

It was his turn to stand up. "Stop being so pigheaded. You're worse than Yusuke."

"Ouch, low blow."

" _They will kill you_ ," he finally snapped. "You didn't hear them talking. They _eat_ humans, and they were going to turn you into their next meal before I stepped in. So you are going to stay here where I know you'll be safe until I can figure out how to get the two of us back to our own dimension."

She flew to the counter and suddenly, she was nose-to-nose with him. " _I hate you!_ " she shouted, cheeks turning red. "You're _so_ fucking condescending, you always talk to me like I'm a child you need to _babysit_ , Toriaka!" His shoulders relaxed a little, and he stared her down piteously until she realized what she'd said. Her eyes dropped down, ashamed. "... Okay." He felt Irie's fingers closed over his. "Okay. When I start projecting things on other people, I'm in zero shape to do anything useful. Please promise me that you'll be careful, though."

"Of course." He came around to her side of the counter and found a knife on top of the oven, in much better condition than the long pizza cutter, too high for her to see. "Here, use this. That thing's going to snap if you try to hit someone."

"Right, yeah."

Kurama glanced outside. "Look, it's stopped raining."

"You should go." Irie had set the knife down and was fiddling with the skirt of her dress, holding it up to inspect the smudged, glitter-made candelabras printed on it and exposing the soft lace of her petticoat. Kurama accidentally caught sight of the edge of her bloomers and looked away, but she wasn't paying attention. "I'll go nuts if I have to put up with the stench of stale pizza sauce much longer."

He laughed a little. "That stench is going to help hide you from any demons sniffing around," he teased. "Stay away from the windows, you don't need anyone seeing you."

"And you try not to get your lung punctured again," she demanded, poking his chest. He looked down at the top of her head, which only came up to his shoulder, and he hugged her.

"Try not to have another meltdown while I'm gone."

"Jerkface."

He made sure she hunkered down underneath a prep counter, hidden from view to anyone who might look in through the window and knife in hand. She gave him a smile and the thumbs-up.

"Hurry back," Irie whispered mousily as he unlocked the back door and slipped out.

Though it had stopped raining, the clouds were still dark and heavy and threatening to give way to another downpour. He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the transformation he hadn't made in quite a while, but then another familiar voice jarred him out of his concentration.

"Kurama?"

He jumped and widened his eyes at the sight of Yusuke- or, this universe's version of Yusuke. He was dressed in dark leather and laced in scars, much like he'd looked when his demon blood had first awakened. Granted, his hair was its usual length, but the criss-crossing marks scoring their way over his face were definitely reminiscent of his ancestor, Raizen. A massive two-by-four studded with long nails was casually slung over his shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Yusuke asked. "And why do you look like that? Your mom's place is on the other side of town."

"Yes, well…" What did he _say_? "I had business to attend to that required Shuichi."

Yusuke cocked a disbelieving eyebrow. "In a rundown pizzeria?"

"Merely a rendezvous point, I assure you." As if to prove a point, he quickly made the change and was suddenly standing a solid foot taller, whipping his silvery tail about to clear away the energy-laced fog that his demonic aura had created. "What brings _you_ all the way out here?" he asked in Yoko Kurama's cool, throaty voice.

"Oh, y'know," he replied with a grin, "Hunting." He sniffed the air and scowled. "Man, why do you stink like blood?" His dark eyes lazed over Kurama's shoulder and through the back window. Frowning, he muttered, "What the shit?"

Kurama turned around, tossing his long, pale hair over his shoulder. He saw Irie's eyes, huge and petrified, staring at him from the window for only an instant before she ducked back down. _Damn._

"Who is that?" Yusuke growled, throwing the door open. "Are you fucking _spying_ on us?"

"She's with me," Kurama promptly insisted.

"A _human_ girl?" Yusuke eyed him suspiciously. "Why are you hanging around a human girl? Where did you even _find_ her, this part of the city's been cleared for three years." He groped around under the table until he grabbed a fistful of Irie's blouse and forcefully yanked her out. "Why were you eavesdropping?" he sneered. "Didn't your _mommy_ ever teach you it wasn't polite?"

"Christ, Yusuke, we're the same age!" she squeaked fearfully, trying to twist out of his grip. But she couldn't stop staring at Kurama.

"How do you know my name?" he spat, pushing her towards the wall just as he let go.

"H-he told me," she quickly lied, pointing a shaking finger towards Kurama. "K-kurama did. Said you were friends."

"Irie, calm down," Kurama soothed. Hearing his voice, she flinched and looked away. "He's not going to hurt you. _Are_ you, Yusuke?"

"Why would you keep her within the city limits like this?" Yusuke glanced back at Kurama, putting a hand on his hip. "You know what happens to humans in Yukina's territory. Remember when we brought Keiko and Shizuru to the safehouse?"

"It was an accident," he dodged, "I was bringing her there when we ran into a pair of ogres, and we had to-"

"What do you mean, ' _bringing her there_?'" Irie realized it before Kurama did, and blanched. Yusuke curled his lip. " _You_ were the one who insisted we stop bringing humans in."

"I-"

"Who are you?" Yusuke demanded. "And why did you think disguising yourself as Yoko Kurama was a good idea?" The edge of the nail-driven plank landed heavily in Yusuke's palm and bounced slowly, threateningly as he approached Kurama.

"Wait, Yusuke!" Irie threw herself between the two of them, holding her hands out to stop him. "I know you don't have a _clue_ who I am, but I can explain everything."

"Someone had better," he threatened darkly. "Or I'm gonna tenderize both of you for the next gang of demons that happen to walk by."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Wow, this one took a while to write! I was up super late finishing it and then took today to edit, but it's finally here! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, though. I'm a little proud of this new universe they're in ( _dedicated to user_ owlloveyou _because she gave me the idea for it_ ), and it'll get explained more in-depth in the next installment.

Thanks again for reading, everyone! Please don't forget to leave a quick comment in the review box for me, I love getting feedback and constructive criticism!

Lots of love, GrisailleDreams~


	5. The Fox and the Poodle: Pt 1

_~Yukina~_

 _It took all of five seconds for the small demon to take out Tarukane's three henchmen, and she suddenly found herself free of their grasp. She watched her savior, surprised at his ferocity and the steely fury in his eyes— the only emotion he was showing._

" _The game's over," he said slowly, "You ugly fool. I saw the talisman cards hung in the tower. That explains why I couldn't find her with my Jagan eye. But you can't run from death forever."_

 _Tarukane was trembling with fear. In the last five minutes, he'd lost every cent he'd owned along with his fighter. Now the skeletal Grim Reaper was hovering over the shoulder of this dark-haired swordsman and threatening to take the rest. And Gonzo wasn't above bargaining for it._

" _W-wait!" he called out nervously, trying to hold on to his authority by the skin of his teeth. "I-I don't know who the hell you are, but if it's money you're after, we can talk!" Yukina flinched, disgusted when she heard what came next as he pointed at her. "Listen, here, that broad behind ya makes jewels you wouldn't even believe! I could pull millions from 'em."_

 _Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. The demon bared his teeth and sunk a fist deep into Tarukane's cheek and sent him flying, so hard that the back of the ugly human's skull cracked the glass window. He wouldn't let up, either. Over and over, Yukina watched as this young man beat Tarukane until the fleshy face resembled a steak. She heard the voice of one of the humans who had fought the Toguro brothers come through the window, muffled._

" _Hiei! Don't kill him!"_

 _Hiei stopped and glanced towards the human, then back to Tarukane. "Hn. They're just afraid of justice." He grabbed him by the shirt collar and prepared a final strike, this time with strength enough to send bones into the brain._

" _No!" Yukina's voice trembled in a low tone, but it was firm and cold enough to make Hiei's hand halt in midair. He looked back at her, face twitching._

" _Are you crazy?" he snapped. "Is this not the man who tormented you and made you his slave?"_

" _He is…" Her gaze lowered to Tarukane, who was all but unconscious in Hiei's grip. "That's why_ I _want to be the one who does it."_

 _She reached out towards the sorry heap of a man while Hiei, too surprised at this revelation, held Tarukane's position. Stopping a centimeter away from his skin, Yukina's eyes began to glow, and a thick frost spread itself almost instantly over his cheek, covering his entire head and reaching the neck, all of it penetrating deep into his flesh. She pulled away, then back-handed Tarukane's face hard enough for it to shatter._

 _Brushing stray, frozen chunks of gore from her fingers, she watched Hiei drop the dead man with a laugh. "Humans," she coldly stated. "Disgusting creatures. The realms would be better off if we kept them as fodder."_

 _~Irie~_

She felt like she was trying to talk down a velociraptor, for all the good this was doing her. Forget years, she felt _decades_ out of practice. Her brain was having trouble remembering that this wasn't the Yusuke she knew, the idiot she envied bitterly and, as of late, the sort-of friend. This was an entirely different person, shaped by the universe around him, and it was a chore to remind herself. Irie hadn't felt so unprepared since the universe that had briefly turned her into a flamingo.

It was even harder to think on her feet with Yusuke's finger up and centered on her nose, and especially Kurama. Damn it all, _Kurama,_ with his freaky foxish form and the good sense to keep back. She knew he was a fox, but why couldn't he have been red or black? _Green_ would have been easier to handle. At least then she could probably focus better on negotiating with Yusuke. Not that she could, anyway—getting out of trouble with words was Ayame's job. She had always known just what to say. Irie prayed to be able to channel some of that, now.

"You're probably not going to believe this," Irie started weakly, knees shaking, "But we're sort of from a different universe?"

"Nice try," Yusuke dismissed, closing one eye to readjust his aim a little. "I'll give you two more before I blast your head off. Next."

"Why don't you just tell him we're from _accounting_?" Kurama jabbed from behind.

" _You're not helping_." she hissed back, twitching at the sound of his voice. Irie sighed and tried to relax, ignoring Kurama as best as she could. "Okay, let's try this again. My name is Endo Irie, and I'm an interdimensional traveler." And she didn't sound like she was giving a book report at school in the _slightest_. "The Kurama you see behind me and I are from the same universe, which is not this one. We came here by accident, and we're just trying to go home."

"Wrong answer. Third try." Now, even _she_ could see the glow of energy gathering at his fingertip.

"That should still count as my first…" she grumbled.

Kurama took a step forward, side-by-side with his human companion. "Yusuke, she's telling the truth."

"Prove it." Yusuke let out a small laugh. "'Cause I don't know any Kurama who would keep a human girl around like a pet."

Irie's face turned a deep red. "You did _not_ just—"

Kurama smirked to himself. "Please. If she were a pet, she'd be trained to keep her mouth shut once in a while." He didn't have to look to know Irie was fuming.

"I will _leave your ass_ here!" she screeched, refusing to tear her gaze away from Yusuke.

"No, you won't."

Her shoulders sagged, and she pleaded, "Yusuke, just ask me something about yourself that only one of your friends would know and—"

"Because you know our Yusuke _so_ well."

His amused tone was the last straw for her. " _Can you not?!"_ she snapped, whirling about with a murderous look in her eye. "I've already got Greasy Mc _Boom_ stick over here—" she jabbed her thumb towards a nonplussed Yusuke, "—trying to blow my fucking head off, which I'm desperately trying to prevent, and you aren't doing anything except for being an asshole! So unless you can think of something that will make him turn off the finger, which he may very well pull on you once he's done painting this alley with my brain matter, I'd really appreciate it if you would _shut your fucking piehole_!"

"Hey _lovebirds_!" Yusuke cut in, lowering his loaded Spirit Gun a little while Kurama burst out into a full laugh (which infuriated her even more), "Can you save the tiff until after I'm done threatening you?"

" _No!_ " she barked, turning on him, now, "And how _dare_ you insinuate that I'm in a relationship with this jackass? I'd eviscerate the bastard if looking at him didn't make me sick!"

Yusuke snickered and finally let his arm drop. "Anyone ever tell you ya sound like a toy poodle when you're angry?"

"That's it, I'm killing you first—!"

"Please, in _that_ outfit?"

Kurama took another step forward and slipped his hand over her mouth from behind to muffle her new barrage of insults. "Irie, hush. You're loud enough to bring around every demon in a hundred kilometers." She tried to pry him off, and even bit down on his fingers, but it didn't bother him. "We aren't here to cause you any trouble, Yusuke. Like she said, we came to your world by accident. Now we only want to break into that office over there so we can go home." He tilted his head just down the street, gesturing at the building they'd previously escaped.

"Break into…" Yusuke scratched the back of his head. "How does Yukina's fortress help you go back to… wherever?"

"Her fortress?" Kurama knew his brain must visibly be working. "I know that she's very different from the Yukina I know, but why would she need a stronghold in Ningenkai?"

"You… you really don't know where you are, do you?" Yusuke looked over one shoulder, then the other. "It's not safe to talk about that out here," he murmured quietly. "Follow me. I know a place." Looking Irie up and down, he frowned and added, "Stay between Kurama and I. Colorful little thing like you'll get snatched up and eaten in no time if you aren't careful."

Kurama released her and made sure she stayed within arm's reach as the three of them carefully prowled down the alley and deep into a hidden network of more. The path Yusuke took was complex and winding, and Kurama was sure that they'd doubled back once or twice just to confuse anyone who could be following. He was worried that Irie might not keep up, or drift out of his sight, but Yusuke's pace was slow enough for her to keep up.

She still wouldn't look at Kurama, even if he stared at her. Well, why would she? She was probably still spitting angry. Occasionally, he saw the corner of her iris drifting towards him, but it would quickly flit away, and he noticed that it wasn't irritation at all. It was closer to fear. He wondered if maybe she was just tense, being around so many demons, or too interested in meeting a new "version" of someone she knew. Because he didn't want to think that she was more scared of Yoko Kurama, the best defense she had and her only friend in this world, than of a Mazoku who'd openly wanted to murder her just fifteen minutes ago.

"How much farther?" Irie grunted.

"About another half kilometer."

"Awesome…"

"Half a kilometer" turned into a full one for all of Yusuke's detours, and Irie kept looking nervously at the sky where the sun was sinking lower and lower. Finally, Yusuke took them to a warehouse, but it wasn't visible until it was practically in front of their noses; it seemed to spring into existence like a mirage on a hot day once they were within about ten feet. Kurama could sense an energy-hiding barrier in the walls, not unlike the one in the mansion. Physically, it was well-fortified, with thick walls, barred windows, steel doors, and barbed wire, and Yusuke had to unlock a huge padlock hanging off the entrance. He ushered the two of them inside first, making sure that when the door shut behind him, it wasn't going to easily be opened again.

"So…" Kurama noted, looking around, "This is your 'safehouse.'"

"Yep."

Inside, everything was made of metal or concrete, and it still didn't look like livable space. A rack of human firearms sat near the entrance, and Kurama could see a stockpile of ammunition stacked against the wall. While the guns were heavy, they wouldn't be enough if more than a few hungry demons decided to break in; though, they could probably hold off the attackers long enough for backup. Kurama figured they were for the humans who lived here.

Yusuke led them deeper into the warehouse, hauling open a second steel door that gave way to an industrial kitchen. He tossed himself down in a chair, throwing his feet up on a table while Kurama remained standing, watching Irie as she idly poked about.

"Irie," he prodded softly, "Focus."

"I am," she insisted, staring a little too hard at the stovetop. "I can look and listen at the same time."

"So," Yusuke started, "You two really don't know anything about this world?"

"Nope!" Irie chirped forcefully, examining a spoon that had been left on a counter. "I mean, I can guess that it was probably like ours for a long time and only recently branched off into something different. But that's about it."

Yusuke blinked at her. "... Okay. So, Kurama, I'm not sure what our lives are like in _your_ world, but here, our problems all started when we rescued Yukina from Tarukane."

"Interesting." Kurama's tail lashed out as Irie passed by, brushing against her elbow to get her to stop pacing about; he succeeded in startling her before she shuddered and moved to the opposite corner. "I met her back at the office building. She's very…"

"Evil?" Yusuke grunted.

"I was going to suggest _Hiei-like_. She's literally the polar opposite of the Yukina from our world."

"A nice Yukina?" Yusuke mused. "Huh. I'd pay good money to see _your_ world."

"What did she do to the city?" pressed Kurama.

Yusuke raised a brow and watched him carefully. "Sorry, man. It's just _weird_ , hearing that question coming from you. I mean… you were there. Well, not _you_ , but I still feel like a jackass having to explain it." He sighed and brought his eyes to Irie. "How much do you know about my time as Spirit Detective?"

"Pft, I blocked out anything that had to do with you, Yusuke."

"Good. I won't feel so redundant if I talk to you. One of my first case assignments was to rescue Yukina from this scuzzball named Tarukane. I don't want to get into specifics, but if I told you 'he was mean to her' is like saying World War Two was a minor argument. It messed her up pretty bad. Anyway, we didn't hear back from her for quite a while. About a year after that, there was some trouble with this ex-Spirit Detective called Sensui, and he'd been trying to open up the barrier between our world and Makai. It's not a for-sure thing, but we _think_ that Yukina used that chaos to slip through the barrier with some followers. She sure took her sweet time with it, though. It wasn't until we were all distracted by Makai and its last major turf war that Yukina finally took power."

" _What_?" Kurama bridled and dug his nails into his arms. "How did _that_ happen?"

"Don't know." Yusuke shrugged and leaned the chair back on two legs. "It was pretty sudden, and it's not like any of us were here. She had to have been planning it for a long time to be able to do it so easily."

"What was Koenma doing?" Irie asked incredulously, having sunk into a chair, "Picking his ass?! Or King Enma, for that matter, doesn't that sort of fall under their jurisdiction?" Kurama gave her a sharp, puzzled look, but she ignored it.

"Y'know, that's the weirdest part," Yusuke replied, "Both of them have tried to put a stop to it, and they just can't. That lady ain't stepping down for _anyone_."

Irie shook her head. "What does she want with Ningenkai, anyway?"

"Revenge for what Tarukane did. She terrorizes the humans, and she lets demons roam around killing and eating all they want. The Kekkai barrier is still up, though. I heard it's because she wants to keep the human population from being completely decimated."

That made sense, Kurama thought. That was clearly the major difference in this universe: instead of remaining sweet and gentle, like the young demon he knew, this Yukina had become hardened and vengeful. "Hiei must be proud," Kurama thought out loud.

"He's definitely not complaining, that's for sure." Yusuke cracked his neck, wondering how much he should tell these strangers. "Not like the rest of us. You know how he is, he just loves chaos."

"Does Yukina know about their, ah… relation?" He raised an eyebrow. " Did he tell her that she's his sister?"

"Nope. I think she knows, though. It's weird, I don't think I've ever seen Hiei be _proud_ of anyone befo—"

"Wait." Irie was staring at Yusuke with a mixture of repulsion and terror. "Did you say _eating_ a second ago?"

"Yeah…?" He was utterly puzzled. "Do demons not eat humans in your world?" And how long did it take for that to register?

"Oh, they do," Kurama confirmed, "She just didn't know that, apparently." Oops. Check that off on the list of things he'd never thought he'd have to tell the girl.

"Is that what you meant when you said 'hunting' earlier?" She went ashen, then green. "Jesus, I'm gonna hurl…"

"No, no!" Yusuke said quickly. "I take out monsters and stuff, it keeps the population at a manageable level for us."

But she acted like she hadn't heard him. Instead, she grabbed Kurama by the front of his shirt and, head down, demanded in a sickened tone, "You don't eat people, do you? Please tell me you don't eat people."

"I don't eat people." It wasn't very convincing, but it was enough to make her let go and slink back to her corner.

A voice that sounded like it was coming through a tin can started to pour out of an intercom mounted on the wall, drowning out Kurama's next question. "Yusuke?!" a young woman's voice called out, echoing wildly, "Is that you?"

He looked up and yelled at the speaker, "Yeah, Keiko. I'm back."

Fast, clanging footsteps rang from the second floor overhead, and in minutes, a young woman had thrown the door open. Entirely ignoring Kurama and Irie, her wide, worried expression fixed itself on Yusuke, who gave her a smile.

"What took you so long?!" she demanded, taking the steps down two at a time. "I was so worried!"

He laughed a little when she tackled him. "You shouldn't be," he reprimanded gently, "You know I always come back."

"I know…" Keiko closed her eyes and pressed herself against him. "I wish you didn't stay out so long, though."

"Everyone else asleep?"

"Yeah. They told me I shouldn't wait up for you, but…"

Yusuke gave her a gentle squeeze. "Ah, nothing's going to happen to me. I'm on the list." He caught Kurama's questioning eye. "What?"

"What's 'the list?'" Kurama asked. "Whatever it is saved my ass, but I'd like to know why before I try to abuse it again."

"What are you…?" Keiko looked puzzled and straightened up, looking between Kurama and Irie. She frowned, and her tone became dangerous. " _Yusuke?_ " she prompted. "What's he talking about? And why is there another human here?"

"It's a long—"

Keiko whipped out a small pistol from her belt and flicked the safety off, training the barrel on Kurama. " _No_." She huffed and started tapping her foot impatiently, quickly dropping any trace of affection for him. "Kurama tells us we can't afford to have any more humans hiding here or we'll be found out, including his own _mother_ , and yet the two of you bring _her_ here?! That thing standing there is _definitely_ not Kurama, Yusuke. What's going on?"

"You must be Keiko." Irie gingerly put herself between Kurama and the gun with a smile that didn't match her pallor and her hands thrown up to her ears in surrender. "My name is Endo Irie, I've heard a _ton_ about you. All good things, of course."

" _Yusuke_ ," Keiko snarled again, refusing to move her weapon even an inch. " _Explain_."

Yusuke launched into a rushed description of what had happened since he met up with the newcomers while Irie complained quietly, " _Botan said that she'd like me…"_

"They aren't here to hurt us," he finished. "I don't think Miss Fancypants could fight her way out of a wet paper bag, to tell you the truth, so it's not like she's gonna pose a threat."

" _He_ might," Keiko added with a distrustful look at Kurama over Irie's shoulder.

"I won't," he assured her. "Trust me, that's much more effort than I want to expend on anything, right now."

"Yeah!" Yusuke put a hand on Keiko's arm and gently tried to lower it. "Now could ya put that away?"

For a moment, Keiko merely glowered at him, but she finally turned the safety back on and stashed the gun back into its sheath. "Fine…"

"Great." Kurama saw Irie let out a sigh of relief and let her hands fall back down to her sides. "Now, Yusuke, if you don't mind— the _list_?"

Yukina, apparently, wasn't entirely unreasonable. Though she was cruel and merciless to the humans over whom she ruled, she couldn't forget the kindness that a select few had once shown her: Yusuke, Kurama, and Kuwabara were untouchable, free to roam the streets as they pleased. Their families were another matter altogether, but that's when Kuwabara came up with the idea to hoard everyone together inside a safe house. One group, one location, only one place to protect.

"So, we've got…" Yusuke thoughtfully counted out on his fingers. "Me, Kuwabara, you— uh, the other Kurama, sorry— Keiko, my mom, and Kuwabara's family."

Irie coughed into her hand. "What about Kurama's mom? You said something about him not bringing her."

"He said any more than five humans to look after would be too many," Keiko put in sullenly. "And that you could practically smell us from outside, as it was. Six or more humans here, and we'd have _more_ demons trying to get in and eat us."

Somehow, Kurama didn't think that was quite true. He couldn't recall smelling anything of the sort earlier, and he wouldn't put it past himself to have an ulterior motive for keeping his human mother away from the supposed "safehouse."

"If you want the full story," Yusuke said, looking right at Kurama, "You'd have to ask him. Hell if I know what goes on in that guy's mind, nowadays."

"Where _is_ Kurama, anyway?" Keiko asked. "I thought he would've been back by now."

"Probably visiting his mom," he answered with a shrug. "He usually is, nowadays. What about Kuwabara? I think I've got an idea about getting our guests back home, but it's been a couple days since I last saw him and he's kind of integral to the plan."

She stretched her arms across the table and rested her head upon them, looking wearier than ever. "Probably out doing more 'recon work.'"

Yusuke snorted, and a bemused Kurama echoed, "Recon?"

"Shorthand for 'oogling our demonic overlady," Yusuke snickered. "I think the guy's a masochist or something. He fell in love with Yukina the night we rescued her, and it's not like he's ever in any _real_ danger around her— on the list and all. But she's still pretty horrible to him."

"And he always goes back for more," Keiko finished. "I feel bad for the poor guy, sometimes."

"Who're you feeling sorry for?" Yusuke heard the front door creak open a split second before the others did, and he brought his chair back down on all four legs. "He does it to himself. He knows _exactly_ what he's getting into."

"Who's getting into what, now?"

Irie slapped a hand over her mouth and turned her snort into another cough. This universe's version of Kuwabara must have had terrible vision, or at least limited access to alternative forms of corrective eyewear, because he waltzed into the kitchen sporting a large, old-fashioned pair of horn-rimmed glasses that were taped together in the middle. Seeing them with the rest of his outfit (and he looked like he was ready to star in the next street brawling video game, down to a long, fat scar stretching from below the waist of his pants to his jaw), glasses had never looked more out-of-place on another person.

"Ah, speak of the devil." Yusuke stood up and gave him a hearty clap on the back. "Meet our new friends, Irie and not-Kurama."

"Who and _who_?"

"Yeah, I'll explain it in a minute. Say, Kuwabara, how would you feel about putting your 'reconnaissance' to good use…?"

It was simple: Kuwabara had the most extensive knowledge of Yukina's office, and could find the best point of entry with relative ease. Once they found their way in, Yusuke, Kuwabara, and even their own Kurama (assuming he showed his face soon) could both aid the search for the portal and help defend against Yukina and her forces. The second Irie gave Kuwabara a rough estimate of where their objective _should_ be, she was silently deemed unneeded for the formation of the battle plan and relegated to exchanging bored or worried glances with Keiko, who was also left out of the loop.

Kuwabara was more subdued in this universe, she noticed. His gestures were smaller and more controlled, like his facial expressions, and the word "Yukina" didn't make him bust out into declarations of never-ending love, but his temper was as short as ever. It was, after all, a harsher world, here. Irie was glad to see, though, that it was still easy to make him smile. Yusuke, on the other hand, was entirely the same as his counterpart.

While she was watching them, Kurama was watching her. She hadn't gained any color back and looked downright ill. She kept coughing, too, harder and more often as time passed, and more than once, he saw her eyes struggling to stay focused on one spot. But, before he could say anything, Keiko popped up and stretched, yawning.

"Alright, it's after midnight. Bed time for the human girls," she announced. Grabbing Irie's wrist, she smiled and said, "You boys can do without her, I'm sure."

"Uh…" They hadn't realized that neither Irie nor Keiko had said a word in at least an hour.

"She gave us all the information I needed, anyway," Kuwabara admitted.

"Good. Come on, I'll show you where we sleep."

Was it already so late? Kurama hadn't looked at the clock in a very long time, and without any windows, the sun could set without them noticing. Maybe that was why Irie seemed exhausted. He gently stopped her and said, "Are you okay? You look—"

"I'm fine." She squeezed his shoulder like she was trying to steady herself. "But please, we need to leave soon."

"Kuwabara wants to wait for—"

"As soon as the other Kurama gets here, then," she muttered, rubbing her temple. "I _have_ to get back. I can't…" Catching his eye for the briefest second, she grimaced. "My… _lab_ needs me, remember? And who's going to feed Duchess while I'm gone?"

"Go sleep," he insisted, "We'll come get you when it's time to move out."

"Thanks."

Keiko led her by the arm, which was probably a good thing, and the three men waited until they heard a door shut to continue their conversation.

"So, I still think the topmost fire escape is our best option." Kuwabara had produced a small, electronic tablet and brought up a set of blueprints for the group's scrutiny. He zoomed in on the roof. "It's got the laxest security, and they aren't even there half of the time."

"I don't know," Kurama put in, leaning forward. "It's too open. Besides, how are we going to get Irie up there?"

" _Your_ girlfriend, man," Kuwabara flippantly said, " _You_ carry her."

"She's not my—"

"Yeah, yeah, not your girlfriend." Yusuke waved him quiet. "Look, the point is that a ground-level entry is out of the question, and going through a window will be too slow and too noticeable. The fire escape has a simple padlock that's easy to break and, at most, one guard troll that we can knock out in under a minute. And Irie said that what you guys're looking for is probably on either of the top two levels, so it's also the most _direct_ route. That said, I think we should climb up the side of the building next to it and jump to Yukina's roof to get to the fire escape."

"So we break in," Kuwabara summarized, "One of us stays behind and guards the fire escape, just in case they find out we're there and send in a patrol from above. I think I should be the one—"

"No," Kurama shot down. "I think Kurama— the other one— should keep watch. Irie won't want to search the building with him, and I certainly don't want to have to team up with myself. You can come with us, Kuwabara."

"Right." He pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. "Well, then, it'll be you, Irie, Yusuke, and I, and we split up into pairs."

"I'll go with Kurama," Yusuke volunteered. "And we'll take the fourth floor."

"Then we'll take the top. The second one of the teams finds the portal, we'll send word to the others, and you and Irie can be on your way." Kuwabara smiled. "Feels good to have a sound plan for a change."

"Ah, there'll be plenty of winging it," Yusuke chuckled. "Don't worry."

"Hmph." Kuwabara tapped the tablet a few more times and turned it off before stowing it into his pocket again. "One of these days, Urameshi, you're going to get us all killed with your blatant lack of organization. Now, because some of us are _still_ only human, I'm gonna go catch some shut-eye. Fill in Kurama— the other one, _sorry_ — when he gets here, will ya?"

"Got it."

Yusuke and Kurama were left in silence, though the latter was busy burning the plan into his brain. The tiniest bit of unease pricked the back of his neck. Irie had said before that meeting a double for the first time was an unpleasant experience. But he was a demon, more resilient than she. It would be different, wouldn't it?

Yusuke stood and stretched. "I'm gonna go wait for the other one out front. Wanna come with?"

"Sure. Why not?"

Unexpectedly, Yusuke took them a different direction from the one by which they'd entered, and went up a set of stairs to a high mezzanine of sorts that ran around the edge of the warehouse. Kurama looked briefly down a hall and saw a room that seemed to be lined with hammocks, the closest one having a bare, slender foot sticking over it. The figure turned over, and he saw Shizuru's hair drape itself over her sleeping face.

If not for his great sight, Kurama wouldn't have been able to see much. All of the windows were boarded up, with nails driven into them to discourage intruders from breaking the wood. They looked lethal when he saw them from the other side as Yusuke brought them onto a balcony to sit and stare out over the alleys.

Kurama shivered. "It's freezing," he remarked.

"Yep." Yusuke didn't seem bothered in the least. "It's been getting colder since Yukina took over. You're lucky you're here in summer. In six months, it'll be suicide to so much as open a window."

"I can't believe this could have happened while we were beating each other up off in another realm." Kurama looked up into the sky. There had rarely been this many stars visible in the city since industrialization had come to Japan, as far as he could remember. "I'm glad it didn't for us, but to think that it might have..."

"It made us realize how out-of-touch we were with Ningenkai, that's for sure." Yusuke leaned against a railing. "Kurama was already a little ruffled because of Yomi, but Yukina really took it to a new level."

"I remember that." They were both watching the stars, now, but they only thought of the red, cloudy skies of a different plane. "Yomi. I can only imagine what coming back to Yukina was like for him."

"It's gotta be pretty weird," Yusuke softly said after a moment, "Meeting yourself."

"I could imagine." He was more curious than nervous, to be honest.

"Like… There's another _me_ running around. I don't know what I'd do if I ever came face-to-face with him." Yusuke turned his head to see Kurama chuckling.

"Two Yusukes would be more trouble than they'd be worth," he cajoled. "I don't know if _any_ universe is ready for that."

"Well?" Yusuke pressed. "What's he like? The me that you know."

"There isn't a major difference that I can see," Kurama replied. "You and our Yusuke are practically identical. Though he doesn't go prancing about tattooed."

"These are badass, what are you talking about?" he grumbled.

"They stick out a little in a human world."

"Okay, fair. Speaking of which—" Yusuke looked over both shoulders before he asked through his teeth, "Did the kid _not_ know you were a demon?"

Baffled, Kurama said, "No, she knew. Why?"

"But she's never seen Yoko Kurama, has she?" Shaking his head with a small smile, he continued, "Shiori was like that when she first saw our Kurama with a tail. Well, not bitchy." He used his hand to mimic a barking dog. "But she was plenty nervous about it. Kept asking us if her eyes were playing tricks on her or if she was dreaming."

"That sounds like Mother. Unfortunately for me, Irie gets angry when she's anxious."

"So I noticed."

 _~Irie~_

A floor above them, she watched from a window and hesitantly drew the small, glass bottle from her pocket again. It took too much effort to swallow down the bile trying to rise in her throat. Out popped the cork with no more than a flick of her thumb. She gave the contents a quick swirl and in a blink, she shot half of it down and stowed the rest in her pocket once more.

Something seemed to flash in the night, and she squinted. Her stomach lurched again when she caught the end of a silver sheath of hair. Fuck. Why did there have to be two of them? One was bad enough.

~ _Kurama~_

She'd been right. It _wasn't_ like a blow to the abdomen. It felt like someone had forced him down into a deep pool of ice-cold water and held him there. He didn't know that he'd stopped breathing until his lungs were already tight and burning. Without a doubt, Kurama _knew_ that he was looking at a mirror of himself.

He also knew what she'd meant about hiding it. The other one hadn't moved so much as a muscle, but there was a more than plain shock in his eyes that couldn't be covered.

"Hey…" Yusuke started cautiously, "Uh, so this is—"

" _Me_ ," the two said together.

Scratching the back of his head, Yusuke let out a little huff. "Yeah, this is exactly as weird as I thought it'd be."

* * *

 **Author's Note _:_** "I'll finish it this week if it kills me!" she said, and then suddenly it was a month later.

Oops- sorry, everyone! Chapter Five has been a toughie, and this is only the first half! The whole thing hadn't even been written, yet, and it was already well on its way to 8k words. I decided to split it up to make it more manageable, which is why this chapter is shorter than normal. The second part should be up before the end of the month, I'm hoping by this weekend!

Please also be sure to check out or follow my art blog on tumblr (grisaille-dreams) for chapter updates and concept art for the story!

Thank you all so much for your patience, and thank you to everyone who reviewed! I really appreciate it! Lots of love, GrisailleDreams.


	6. The Fox and the Poodle: Pt 2

With every step, Irie's muscles screamed and another puff of fog burst from her mouth. The wind kept jostling her, threatening to blow her away, and she was entirely convinced that she would freeze to death. _'We can't just climb on the_ sunny _side, no_ ,' she thought to herself, cruelly mimicking her team. _'No one will see us if we're in the shadow._ '

"Are you doing alright, Princess?"

Without thinking, she looked over and flung a rude gesture to one of the Kuramas—not hers, the other one. Yoko, she'd started calling him, if only to keep from confusing herself. This was poorly advised on her part, as the fingers of her other hand threatened to slip from the meager windowsill, and her insides jumped, expecting a sixty-foot drop. She yelped and quickly stabilized herself, breathing hard and squeezing her eyes shut to get the image of her skull cracking open like an egg on the sidewalk below out of her head. Yoko's smug grin was mocking her when she dared look again. Jackass.

This wasn't what she'd wanted to do today.

Earlier that morning, the kitchen had come to an interesting division: the two Kuramas were sitting together, deep in conversation, while Shizuru made breakfast and Kuwabara and Yusuke made sure they had all of the proper equipment gathered together. Keiko and Irie had, together, come down last.

"Jesus." Irie rubbed her eyes and yawned, snatching coffee from Shizuru. Her lip was curling at the sight of the identical demons. "Can't you two go into redhead mode or something? Quick, before I vomit."

"Someone's not a morning person," Shizuru laughed.

"That, too. But, really, someone change into Shuichi Minamino. If nothing else, it'll help us tell you apart."

"Nah, that's too dangerous." Yusuke took up the frying pan while Shizuru was distracted and dumped most of the sausage onto a plate, only to hork it all down in one go. "They'll be more likely to get their asses handed to them again."

"I'm surprised you're so uncomfortable." Yoko smiled slyly at her, waiting to catch her eye. "Do you hate demons, Irie?"

She forced a mawkish smile at him and dropped into a chair. "Just the ones that look like you, gorgeous."

Her Kurama scowled and looked away from his double's wink. "Why don't we go over the plan one more time? Since Irie hasn't heard the final version."

"We break into Yukina's office," she began, vexed. "Then we split up into two teams and search the fourth and fifth floors. I go with Yu-"

"You're going with me," Kuwabara cut in. "And we're searching the top floor. Your Kurama and Yusuke will go through the fourth level, while _our_ Kurama will keep guard up top. What you missed is that we're going in through the roof."

"Why can't we—?" She broke off, yawned again and leaned on her hand, defeated. "Okay."

Yusuke thunked her over the head, to little effect. "Wake up, dipshit! You can go back to bed when you're in your own world."

"Ugh, why can't we do it _later_? Like after noon?" Her hands squeezed the sides of her mug. Clearly, the coffee was for warmth, rather than caffeine.

Yoko slid over to her and leaned in near her ear. " _I_ could wake you up," he purred softly.

Those words made her look up and give him a hard look more frigid than anything Yukina could come up with. "Get away from me," she growled lowly, and her tone was so serious that he looked thoroughly chastised and moved back without protest. Once he was a safe distance away, she took a sip of her drink and asked, "How, pray tell, are we getting to Yukina's roof?"

Yusuke grinned and replied, "You any good at scaling walls?"

And that's how she found herself free-climbing a seven-story building.

Her only consolation was that she'd at least stopped feeling sick, but she'd expected that. Irie pressed herself against the window and carefully glanced down. The others, and she hated the cliché, looked like ants from this height. Her eyes shot up to the sky. Shit. "Okay," she murmured to herself. "Just breathe. You can do this. You haven't done it in a few years, but you can do this."

"You okay over there, Princess?" Yoko was clinging effortlessly to a drainpipe that she'd missed and smirking devilishly. "You wouldn't be afraid of heights, would you?"

"Fucking terrified," she groaned. "Please go away."

"I'll give you a hand if you ask nicely," he offered.

"Good God," she griped, knowing that he was climbing extra-slowly just for her. "How did I get stuck up here with you, again?"

"Well, you'd attract too many unfriendly demons if you'd stayed on the ground," he pointed out. "So technically, you're safer up here. And if something happens to _your_ Kurama, we've still got you to tell us what exactly we're looking for."

"Which is why we're also split up for the indoor search." She took a shaky breath and slowly pulled away from the glass.

He waited a moment before seriously offering, "Really, do you want any help? We've only got another twenty feet."

"I got it." Taking a deep breath, Irie turned around and jumped to wrap her fingers around the chipped, upper molding of the window pane. Hauling herself up, she immediately gave a mighty leap and caught the pipe about a meter above Yoko. "See?" she breathed, sounding more sure of herself than she had before. "Nothing to it."

"All I see is a missed opportunity." They resumed their climb, this time at a faster pace. "You should have borrowed a skirt from the ladies."

She flushed. Given the state of her ruined dress, Shizuru had taken pity upon Irie and given her shorts that were clearly too long, and a sweater with sleeves that had to be rolled up several inches. Keiko had lent her a spare pair of tennis shoes, and then helped her tame her deflated, rat-infested curls into a ponytail. "I will kick you off of this pipe _so fast_ ," she growled.

The end of the fraying rope Yusuke had dropped before her tickled the back of her neck while she clambered upwards like a monkey. Without pitons, hooks, or any other real climbing gear, it was currently useless, and the two climbers had been forced to creatively find alternate routes up to the roof. As pleased as she was to at least have something as solid as a pipe, Irie missed the closet full of climbing gear back in her mansion.

Finally, she heaved herself over the side and rolled onto the gravel-covered roof. Every inch of her body ached, and she was exhausted. In a strange way, it felt good. The burn of lactic acid in her muscles was rewarding, and there was the old exhilaration from doing something so reckless. A smile pushed its way over her face, and she giggled.

A shadow blocked the sun from her face. "Ready to go, Princess?"

"You really need to stop calling me that." All the same, she got to her feet and slipped the coil of rope from her shoulder. "That solar panel over there should make a decent anchor for you. I'll take this exhaust pipe."

Tying a bowline knot with a lasso-like loop was easier than she'd anticipated. It _had_ been one of her most-used knots, but that was six, seven, eight years ago. She supposed it was a little like riding a bicycle as she slipped the looped end over fat pipe's rotating cap. With a couple of finishing tugs and a test yank, the rope was secure and ready to go.

"Color me impressed." Yoko still had the second rope at his side and an amused grin plastered to his lips.

She straightened up and gave him the most infuriatingly superior look. "Can you _not_ tie a rope?" she snapped rebelliously.

He shrugged and finally started on fixing the rope to the solar panel. "Not as fast as you. I'm used to creeping vines, but those take too much power. The energy signature would be noticeable from a kilometer away. Where did you learn to do all of this, anyway? Knots and urban ascension and the like?"

"My friends and I used to do this kind of thing a lot," she admitted. With his back turned, and no one else around, she was free to stare. It was getting easier to look at him.

"Did you also habitually hunt yourselves down in different worlds?" he teased. His laugh broke her heart a little.

"Oh, yeah." Brush it off. He was trying to be nice, in his way. "I've met so many versions of myself that it's hard to keep track of them, sometimes."

"Alright," he said, tugging his rope, "This one's done. Shall we?"

Together, they tossed the ends of their ropes over the side of the building. Irie watched until she was sure the other three were on their way up before she was satisfied enough to sit down. She was content to sit in silence, staring at the grey-white cloud cover that was the wintery sky. He wasn't.

"Tell me about them." He had the nerve to sit next to her, too close, and she remembered why she hated him.

"Bro, personal space." She scooted over to put five extra feet between them. "Well, there was this one girl, went by Natsume, right? We looked _entirely_ different, and had completely different lives, and she was an absolute nightmare. Like, I was pretty awful as a teenager, and I'm sure I would've developed that nasty attitude had my life gone differently, but I've still never tortured people before, you know? I mean, I have. I've tortured people. Horrifically. But not the way that she does, I…" Irie trailed off with an alarmed look on her face. "I did a lot worse, come to think of it. Don't tell my Kurama I told you that, though."

"Hey, it's not our business." He peered over the edge of the building. "Hm. I guess the rope really cuts down on climbing time. Our friends are already halfway up."

"Bully for them, the bastards."

It was so much easier to talk to him, knowing that they would never see each other again after today. In fact, his lack of reaction to her confession was enough to make her regret being so rude to him. She wished she still had someone like that back home, someone she could talk to without judgment, but… oh, well. That was yet another consequence of her actions, and she had accepted it long ago. Or thought she did.

Kurama was the first to reach the top and opened his mouth the second he released the rope. "Irie, are you—?"

"We're just great," Yoko broke in. "How was the ascent?"

"Oh, fantastic." Yusuke huffed, the tiniest bit sarcastic as he and Kuwabara hauled themselves over the edge. "This was the _best_ workout I've ever had!"

"If you want to bitch, then _you_ should do the free-climbing next time," Irie said brusquely. She struggled to get to her feet, muscles begging to stay sitting and relaxed. Her legs wobbled a little under her, but Kurama grabbed her elbow to keep her steady. Immediately, she yanked it away. "Now that everyone's here, can we _please_ get a move on?"

"Then grab a rope, kid," ordered Yusuke, "Unless you want one of us to carry you when we jump to the next roof." That was enough to get her untying the rope, grumbling mutinously under her breath.

Yoko swept down upon her to help her gather it up. "I could carry you across, if you'd like," he offered, not unkindly, and his low voice tickled her ear.

She _almost_ said yes. But then, she caught Kurama's burning gaze watching the pair of them and remembered herself. "Not even if we didn't have the rope and the roof was on fire," Irie sniped, shouldering the coil.

After anchoring the end to yet another exhaust pipe, Irie handed over the rest of her lifeline to Yusuke. He and Kuwabara took a running start before leaping to Yukina's roof, which was about twenty feet across and fifteen feet down. For a split second, while the guys were securing the line, Irie wondered if maybe she couldn't make the jump on her own. Masanori and Shinjuko would have absolutely urged her to do it, back in the day. _'Don't be a dumb teenager_ ,' she scolded herself, ' _Bad ideas are bad!'_

"Do you want me to go with you?" Kurama asked softly.

"No." That was the difference that made this Kurama harder to handle, she decided: he acted like he cared. Her stomach twisted. "But one of you needs to get both the ropes after I'm across. If we just leave them where they are, someone'll see them and get suspicious."

"At least take this." He held out his palm and held a tiny, green leaf. Before her eyes, it lifted about an inch into the air and started spinning, gradually growing with each rotation until it was roughly the size of a banana leaf. "It's friction-resistant," he explained as she took it from him. "You can use it to zip-line over."

"Thanks." Rolling it up so that it was a more manageable width, Irie relented and gave him a smile; her eyes were fixed firmly a foot away from his head. "See you on the other side."

"Did you make that from a vanilla orchid?" Yoko asked, watching Irie sling the leaf around the rope. "I can tell from the scent. You chose well, it's soft and subtle, just like her."

"Wait, what?" Irie looked over her shoulder just in time for Kurama to shove her off of the edge of the roof.

" _Oops_ ," he whispered softly.

The two demons watched each other frostily while Irie's shriek cut through the background. Kurama waited until she had safely touched down on the other roof with Yusuke and Kuwabara before he looked at his counterpart with a cold smile.

"If you like it so much, then I'll get you a bottle of coumarin ***** for our birthday," he said evenly. "What were you two talking about before we got here?"

"Just small talk." Before Kurama could press any further, Yoko raised his eyebrows mysteriously and took it upon himself to retrieve both ropes. "Let's go, they're waiting. You'd better hope that little Irie isn't too angry."

" _I'm going to murder you, Kurama!_ " Irie shouted from the other side, eliciting a sharp bark of laughter from Yoko. In a blink, they were sailing over the alley and alighted on the smooth cement near her.

Yusuke was holding the padlock on the fire escape door by the shank, pulling it away from the body until it was taut. Kuwabara took a small hammer to the side and started rapping on it, trying to keep it as quiet as possible.

"Top-quality craftsmanship, right here," Yusuke joked, and the shank popped free, opening the lock.

"Gotta love shoddy locksmithing," Kuwabara agreed, tossing it aside and wrenching the door open. He and Yusuke dropped inside.

"Now let's hope no one heard that," Irie threw out. She favored Yoko with a brief, tight smile. "I guess this is where we leave you, eh, bushy-butt?"

"Yes. But it was a pleasure getting to work with you." He took her by the hand and leaned down to suavely brush his lips against the back of it, but Irie fluidly pulled away. Now, her smile was awkward, forced, and she put a foot through the door.

"Coast is clear!" said Kuwabara from below.

"Kurama," Irie gently commanded in a clipped voice, jerking her head for him to follow her, "Come on. Let's get out of here, already. I'll kill you when we're back in the mansion."

Before he joined the rest of the group, Kurama paused to look his twin dead in the eye. "Take care of Shiori," he implored. "Keep her safe."

With a sly smirk, Yoko rebuffed, "You and I both know I have her and the Hatanakas holed up in a penthouse that's a damn sight nicer and more secure than the warehouse."

"I know, but still—"

"Don't worry about us," Yoko insisted, his expression serious. "Worry about getting back home. Take care of _your_ Shiori. _And_ the girl, now that I think about it." He narrowed his eyes. "If anything happens to her before you two return to your own universe, you and I are going to have words."

"Why are you threatening yourself?"

Yoko merely raised his eyes enigmatically and turned his back to start his watch. "Why did _you_ do it first?" he asked. With that, Kurama vanished down the fire door, leaving his double to sit outside the door and watch the skyline with a thin, secret smile on his face.

Kurama made his way down the short flight of steps until he came out onto the fifth floor with the others, and he was shocked to see that Irie wasn't fuming. Instead, she looked like she was trying to engross herself as deeply as she could into what Kuwabara was saying.

"… so then you two should take _this_ staircase down," he continued, pointing it out on his map. The door in question was on the other end of the hall. "That one will have the least amount of traffic when nine o'clock rolls around. It really shouldn't take us two and a half hours to find the… whatever it is."

"The portal," Irie corrected quietly.

"Yeah. But in case it does, we'll rendezvous back here at eight-fifty-six."

"How _precise_ ," Yusuke teased. "Alright, enough chatting. We're wasting time. Kurama, it's you and me, buddy."

"Good luck~" Irie sang as Kurama passed her. She didn't watch him leave the hallway. "Okay, Kuwabara," she said, trying to sound perky. "Which door, first?"

They decided to start at the end farthest away from the fire escape. She could really appreciate Kuwabara's search-related work ethic. He was meticulous, slow but as thorough as anything, and Irie was entirely confident that he hadn't missed anything. Not that he could. Unless it was covered, the portal would be more than obvious, so she directed Kuwabara to focus on looking behind large objects like tarps or shelving units. The first room, another mess that couldn't be anything other than storage, turned up nothing, and so did the second, a meeting room that looked like it hadn't been used in a year.

She was about a minute away from suggesting that they rest for a minute—all of this crouching and digging was starting to hurt her back—but once she stood still for longer than ten seconds, she noticed something strange: her toes felt like they were being tugged towards the door.

"Well, that can't be good…" she sighed.

Kuwabara popped out from a closet. "What's up?"

"I think I know where to look next," Irie briefly explained. "And I've got no idea how." Another lie, but who was going to tell on her?

"Lead the way, then."

The tingling pull in her feet led them down the same way that Yusuke and Kurama had gone, but they turned right instead of following the stairs down. One of the doors caught her eye, and excitement caught in her chest. Irie started to jog and snapped up the handle, only to be stopped by Kuwabara.

"What are you doing?!" he hissed, looking terrified. "That's Yukina's personal office. It's literally suicide to waltz in there."

"Oh, please, like she _sleeps_ in there," Irie snorted. "Kuwabara, I'm telling you, I really think this is the one!" Her eyes gleamed, trying to be warm enough to banish his doubts.

It didn't work. "I don't know," he muttered, holding the door shut. "It's dangerous. She could be in there at any time."

"I'll be just a minute, I promise. Besides, I've got you keeping watch." She gave him a reassuring smile, and then slipped through to the other side.

Carefully, Irie turned the doorknob the other way so that it wouldn't make a noise when the door shut. She breathed again when it had, and a glimmer caught the corner of her eye. It was unmistakable. The portal! It was there, set into the wall and shining beautifully, like a savior angel without a face or form. But her relief was to be short-lived.

"Ex _cuse_ me?"

There would be no smooth-talking her way out of this. Irie saw her own death when she turned around and met Yukina's infuriated gaze.

"How _dare_ you?" she whispered angrily. She and a second ice maiden, probably a guard, had been studying the portal when Irie interrupted. "A human. In _my_ most private office."

"Shall I remove this filth for you, Madame?" asked the guard, pulling a nasty-looking serrated blade from her side.

"No. Leave us. I'll deal with this garbage, myself."

She didn't have time to cry out for help. Well, she did. But the ice that gripped her chest squeezed her lungs so tightly that she couldn't bear to make a sound.

 _~Kurama and Yusuke~_

"So, what, Koenma told you to basically invade Irie's house and try to steal her tech?"

Yusuke had been bombarding Kurama with questions about his universe since they separated. As he'd mentioned before, Kurama felt that Irie would have been much more helpful at answering most of them ( _"But how does dimension travel_ work _?"_ ), but Yusuke still persisted, even as they searched through an office.

"Yes, that's the gist of it," Kurama sighed, pulling aside dusty curtains to find nothing but a bricked-off window.

"And because none of you, not even the kid," Yusuke grunted, shoving a bookcase away from the wall, "Know how to use it, you and her got sucked up into our world?"

"Yes."

"That's a fine kettle of fish…" Yusuke mumbled. "You'd think she'd be smart enough to avoid that, if she's lived with it for so long."

"It… it was my fault," Kurama admitted. "I turned it on, and I don't know how. It's set into a television, you know, in our world, and I bumped into it. The next moment, we were here."

Yusuke snickered. "No wonder she's pissed. You'd better hope _our_ Kurama didn't make it any worse."

"Fat chance of _that_." The irritation in Kurama's voice made Yusuke look over with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"You alright, pal?"

"I'm perfect. Jealousy isn't in my nature, Yusuke, you should know that."

"Oh?" He leaned against the desk. "I didn't say a _thing_ about jealousy, what are you talking about?"

"Projection is a Freudian concept, Yusuke. You should look into it and correct yourself when you find it happening."

"Yeah, whatever." Now, he was laughing heartily.

Eager to change the subject, Kurama asked something he'd been wondering about since the night before. "Do you know any demons named Toriaka or Nanami?"

"Yeah, I- wait." Yusuke dropped the cabinet handle. "She's _that_ Irie?"

"What do you-?"

"You meant Kiya Toriaka and Iwasaki Nanami, right?" he continued, and he dropped his fist into his palm. "Yeah, I remember them from a few years back- Botan mentioned them moving to Makai permanently, once, and then there was the huge muck-up with the Endo girl and Koenma and-"

" _Guys_!" Kuwabara came tearing down their hallway looking panicked, and Kurama could have _killed_ him for making Yusuke cut off. "You need to come up here, quick! I think Endo's in trouble!"

"What happened?" Kurama sharply demanded.

"She went into Yukina's office and had me keep watch outside the door, yeah? But she's been in there for, like, twenty minutes, and I haven't heard a _word_ from her and it's not even that big of a room, y'know? And I went to open the door to check on her and it was _frozen shut_."

Yusuke grimaced. "Oh, no…"

"'Oh _no_?'" Kurama snapped. "What do you mean, ' _oh no_?' If Yukina has her-"

"Then we shouldn't be wasting time," Kuwabara pressed. Without another word, the three of them took off, and Yusuke's story was left forgotten.

 _~Yukina and Irie~_

Yukina circled about her new ice statue, contemplative. "Now, what shall I do with you?" she murmured gently. A strained, pained wheeze escaped from her victim's mouth, and she glanced up, smiling venomously at the look in Irie's eye. "I only mean, dear, that I wonder if I should leave you whole or if I should break you into a thousand pieces. Personally, I prefer shattering. It clutters less, you see, even if it's messier. It's more of a long term solution."

Irie tore her gaze away and fixed it upon the portal. It was so close, unbearably close. She could practically taste it. But she couldn't even feel her face, let alone move.

Suddenly, Yukina was smiling in her face, again. "Oh, _do_ cry. I _adore_ the tears of humans. They're beautiful when they're frozen. Please, give me more to add to my collection." She touched the necklace at her throat, which absolutely shimmered when it caught the light. "Maybe I should help you? I think we should start…" Her fingers dragged across Irie's sternum and trailed away to her shoulder. "Mm, let's start with your arm."

"Why are you doing this?" Irie managed to gasp.

"Ah, yes. I was wondering when we were going to arrive at that question." She pulled a falsely pleading face. "'Why are you doing this? Why do you kill? Won't you have mercy?' As if any human had ever shown _me_ mercy."

"Y-you were c-c-captured by hum-mans, weren't you?" The ruby-red eyes snapped onto Irie's face. "T-t-tortured. Th-th-that's why y-y-you hate us s-so much. Why you're ki-illing us."

"What do _you_ know about it?" Her voice was grating, harsh. "And how did you get into my office? Who helped you?"

"Changing the topic isn't very polite—"

Freezing, truly freezing, didn't hurt the way she had expected. The burning sensation, she was familiar with. The aching that was already in her limbs was what she'd expected. Under Yukina's touch, however, her arm felt like tiny, rapidly-growing morning stars had blossomed and burst from her veins, tearing through her flesh like knives. She finally found the strength to screech, and was quickly stifled.

"I'm going to break you apart," Yukina menaced, "Piece. By. Piece. I'll take this arm off, and then rip your fingers away one by one. And you get to watch the whole thing."

 _WHAM!_

Yukina stopped just before she struck off the arm and glared at the door, then back at Irie, who was now crying. The sound came again, _WHAM!_ Muffled voices were on the other side, distressed and determined to break it down. "Count yourself fortunate, human," Yukina whispered. With another look back, she slipped out of the side door silently, without a trace.

The boys broke through seconds later and found Irie, still completely frozen, feet away from the glowing portal. Yusuke and Kuwabara were stopped by the sight of the big, glowing hole in the wall, but Kurama, of course, was hovering over his friend.

"Shh, you're fine," he muttered when she shakily opened her mouth. "Stay still, I'll get you out." Her eyes widened when he made like he was going to crack the ice open, and she was lucky that Yusuke yelled at him.

"What do you think you're doing, dude?!" He nudged Kurama's arm away and planted himself between the two of them. "You've gotta be careful, or you might break _her_." Kurama watched as Yusuke gingerly put his hands on Irie's shoulders, and visibly focused his energy into his palms. "Yo, Kuwabara, come get her back for me."

As the two of them gently bombarded Irie with a hot light, the ice quickly started to sweat until it sloughed off in large chunks. When the heat touched her bare skin, and her arms were free to succumb to gravity, Irie let out a relieved cry and closed her glassy eyes. The parts of her able to move now were shivering uncontrollably.

"Easy, kid," Yusuke soothed, crouching beside her to work on her legs, "Don't try to move too much. That arm looks bad."

"M-m-maybe if y-you hadn't… t.. _taken_ forever t-to come to m-my rescue-"

One foot, having been held up on the ball for half an hour, finally pushed out of its frosty husk and sent her stumbling forward into Kurama. Expecting her to recoil, he was surprised when she pressed against him.

"Ohhh, you're warm…" she groaned quietly.

"How did you learn to unthaw people?" Kurama asked his 'friends,' not daring to push his luck with a hug. "The Yusuke and Kuwabara I know can't do that."

"Genkai," Kuwabara replied, straightening up. "Had to figure it out when Yukina got her hands on the place. You're here on a hot day, winters are ridiculous and peoplescicles are pretty common. Can't do much for that, though." He gestured at the frostbitten arm. "You'll need to get to a hospital once you're back in your own world. Most we can do is wrap it."

"I'll b-b-be fine." She knew as well as Kurama did that that was a bald-faced lie. The fear was nearly palpable. Irie let Kurama help her into a chair, and she leaned back, pressing a hand over her blackened flesh. "Sh-she almost…" Irie hiccupped and another few tears slid down her face. Her whisper was almost too quiet to hear. " _Oh my God, Kurama, she was going to kill me."_

"But she didn't." Kurama reached out and lightly brushed his knuckles against her cheek. "You're safe. We'll be home in no time. Now, do you think you can heal that up before we leave?"

Sniffing mightily, Irie nodded and started murmuring the German song under her breath. " _Blume, leuchtend schön_ …"

Kuwabara and Yusuke were transfixed upon the portal glimmering against the wall when Yusuke, hands on his hips, let out a low whistle. "So this is the thing we broke in for?"

Kurama, joining them, almost didn't dare feel relieved. "Yes."

"And your… _other_ universe," said Kuwabara, "That's what's waiting for you on the other side?"

With a hollow laugh, he replied, "Not to cause offense, but I've never been more prepared to cross through before." Kurama glanced back at Irie. "I'm a little sorry to leave your universe in this state, though."

"Heh, maybe we could visit yours for a while," Yusuke suggested playfully. "Take a breather. See what a peaceful Yukina is like."

" _No_ ," Irie insisted, still shaking and holding her arm. They turned to see her staring at the ground. "I'm s-sorry, but you c-can't. It's not a p-p-paradox-xical 'there can't be two of you at the same time' thing, it's- it's-" She gave a huge shudder. "I-i-if the p-portal closes wh-when we get b-b-back, you'll be s-s-stuck there for wh-h-ho knows how l-long?"

"Eh, I was half-kidding, anyway."

Kurama laughed along with the other two, but cut off when he watched the edges of the portal. "Irie," he sharply broke in, "Irie, it's closing."

"That's impossible-" she mumbled weakly, but when she looked up, he was holding out a hand to her, his long nails forcibly reminding her of claws. Looking past his shoulder she saw that it was, indeed, shrinking, and a fresh dose of panic jolted her heartrate back into gear.

"What are you waiting for?"

Irie was still shivering terribly, but she bit her lip, set her face into a determined frown, and grabbed him. Casting a glance back at the people they were leaving behind, these hardened versions of her tenants, she opened her mouth to say something, but Yusuke waved her off with a grin. "I'll keep an eye out for you, kid."

"Thank you for-"

"Come on, already! We don't have time for goodbyes," Kurama said sharply as he dragged her through the portal, holding her hand the entire way back.

They flew out of the other side and landed on the couch together. She bounced back a little faster than he did, since she was used to it, but she covered her eyes with the back of her arm, leaning back with a heavy sigh. Oh, the warmth! Digging her feet into a blanket tossed casually on the side of the couch was positively orgasmic, and slowed down her shakes considerably. Why was the air conditioner even on? That needed to get rectified _immediately_. She heard a groan, her other hand twitched, and she remembered that Kurama was still firmly attached. She dared to look over, and she yanked herself out of his grasp. Dammit. He was still… She flushed and fled to a chair that was out of his reach, standing behind it and using it to keep herself upright.

He opened his eyes and frowned. "Are you _seriously_ still not over this?" he asked. He stood up and walked to her, putting a hand on the side of her ice-cold arm, and bristled when she roughly shrugged away. "What's _wrong_ with you? With me?"

"It's none of your business," she said softly, rubbing the spot where he'd touched her. "We're home. Please just… just go back to being a human. Or looking like one, anyway."

"I didn't realize you were so offended by white hair and a _tail_."

"I'm not offended, pretty boy, okay?!" She closed her eyes. "Please do this for me, Kurama. I can't… _see_ you… like that."

A moment later, she finally dared to turn back around, and saw Shuichi Minamino disappearing silently up the stairs.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Chapter Five, Part Two, finished! _Finally_!

So sorry it took so long to get out, I ended up getting super sick after putting up the last chapter! Anyway, this was interesting to research, to say the least. You'd think it would be easier to find videos of people scaling buildings on Youtube...

Super-special thanks to FF.N user **owlloveyou** for helping me, especially for a few choice lines that she told me I could/should use. The vanilla lines, in particular. Also special thanks for letting me use her character Natsume in a cameo :

 ***coumarin -** a chemical compound found in synthetic vanilla that smells very sweet- it's moderately toxic to humans.

Thank you all for reading and reviewing (especially reviewing *coughcough*), I really appreciate it! Lots of love, GrisailleDreams


	7. Let It Go

Kuwabara tapped out his dusty running shoes on the back porch before making his way into the kitchen, stretching his arms on the way. One thing he actually enjoyed about this place was the small web of dirt trails that made for decent, scenic jogging paths. Today, he'd skirted around the orchards and journeyed a way into the mountains, and had even been joined by the dog Buttons. He was a good running companion. A lot more cheerful than the people in the kitchen.

Yusuke and Kurama were sitting at the table, the latter sipping tea and reading a newspaper while the other ploughed into a plate of eggs, sausage, and toast; meanwhile, Irie had her back turned to them, washing a large bowl of berries.

"Yusuke," she started politely, her voice tight and clipped while she focused entirely on what she was doing, "Would you mind taking the berry-picking chore tomorrow morning? Kurama can't seem to tell a ripe blueberry from one that isn't."

"If you do, _Yusuke_ ," Kurama put in, similarly refusing to look up from the paper, "Don't forget to cover them up with the netting after you're done. Irie never does, so the birds are always taking the good ones. It's no wonder the garden is lackluster, she's such a scatterbrain."

"Oh, and _Yusuke_ ," Irie continued, ferociously dumping the berries into a mixing bowl full of pale batter, "Could you please be a dear and have Buttons come inside the next time you're out? Kurama's not _nearly_ as good with my animals as you are."

"Well, Yusuke," Kurama said with a slight smirk, "That's only because Irie's lousy at training dogs. Of course they respond much better to a more brutish person."

"It's gonna be _that_ kind of day, huh?" Kuwabara finally interrupted, exchanging an exasperated glance with Yusuke.

For the last week, Irie and Kurama had gone between this weird sort of fighting and ignoring each other entirely, and their friends weren't entirely sure which was worse. If they were in the same room together, the atmosphere would become downright icy. Neither Kuwabara nor Yusuke, who had become the channels through which Irie and Kurama would argue, knew who had done what or why, but she was pissed off, and he wasn't above being petty.

Irie turned around and positively beamed at Kuwabara. "Kazuma," she cooed fondly- oh, God, she used his first name, trying to drag him into the mess, too. "Would you please come over here and reach that muffin tin up there? You _are_ the tallest in the room. Taller than Kurama, anyway-"

"That's just poor planning on Irie's part," Kurama coolly commented, sipping his tea. "Wouldn't you agree, Yusuke?"

"Aw, hell no!" he snapped, slapping his knife down on the table. "I'm not doing this today. If you two wanna bicker with each other, fine, but leave Kuwabara and I out of it!"

"He's the one who's angry," Irie muttered as she dolloped batter into the paper-lined baking tins.

" _She's_ the one who won't talk to me."

"No wonder Botan ran away," Yusuke said under his breath. The day after all this had started, she'd been suddenly called off to Reikai on "urgent business," leaving Yusuke and Kuwabara to deal with the fighting pair themselves. Picking up the empty plate, Yusuke dumped it into the dishwasher and crossed his arms firmly over his chest. "Whatever's going on, you two need to work it out by tomorrow, got it? Kaito says he'll be done fiddling with the TV by then."

Kurama looked a little guilty, but didn't say anything. Using it as an excuse to keep away from the brewing hurricane, Kaito had announced that he would start working on his latest theory about controlling where the television would spit out its travellers using the remote control. Kurama had tried to help, but his focus wasn't top-notch, and he only ended up annoying Kaito. So he stopped.

"C'mon, Kuwabara," Yusuke grunted, "Let's go hike or something. Leave these idiots alone."

When the back door slammed shut again, Irie tore out of the kitchen and ran to the staircase leading to the basement. Kurama knew better than to think she was going to help Kaito. She was probably going to check on the organism she was growing. He had no idea how it was doing, but he assumed it had survived whatever problem it had before their excursion into the Anti-Yukina universe. He huffed angrily and carelessly dropped the newspaper onto the table, then made his way up to the attic.

Out of spite, he had been teaching himself how to pick every last one of Irie's locks. Plants could only get him so far; the body-scanning locks, like fingerprints and irises, were more of a challenge. And today, he was going to finally open the giant, ultimate-level-of-forbidden vault upstairs. The first three locks were easy. He'd even found two of the keys that went to them hidden around the mansion: one had been in the sheath of Irie's second-favorite sword, the one that had once saved her from a bear, and the second was within the skull trapped in a belljar in the foyer. He assumed that the third had to be in Irie's room, the only place he hadn't dared to look.

The finger- and eye-scanners were a fun test of his skill, and he'd made fingerprints with pollen, a cup, and a few pieces of cellotape. He slipped the five bits into the appropriate slots and very gently pressed down; the second light turned on. All that was left was the iris question. He felt proud of this one, actually, and found the plant he'd hidden on the balcony a few days ago. It looked a little like an orchid, but instead of a flower, it sported a great, big eye, and this one was a perfect replica of Irie's. He'd used eye scans he found in her laboratory computers and a healthy dose of demonic energy to get this to grow. Looking at it, he noticed that Irie's eyes weren't really green, after all. They were more blue than he'd originally thought, the color of a stormy ocean. Kurama didn't reflect on this too terribly heavily, though, and held the plant up to the thin laser for analysis. He wasn't surprised to find that it worked. The final light flickered on, and the velveteen panel sprung open, revealing a slim case with a tiny padlock that was the simplest thing to open, so far. And he was disappointed with what he found.

Kurama held the dark grey, ballpoint pen up to the light, letting it reflect off of the crystal button. The side was engraved in silver, loopy letters that read _Party Crashers, LLC_ , but he had little idea of what that meant. "P.C." were initials that showed up a _lot_ in Irie's records, and this must be what they stood for, but it didn't tell him much. This was fancy, to be sure, but he couldn't fathom why on earth a simple pen would be under such high security. The button wasn't even diamond, simply an exquisite specimen of clear quartz. He was about the idly click it, but was interrupted.

" _Drop. The. Pen._ "

Irie's first real words to him in a week were venomous and said that she was entirely prepared to kill him if he didn't comply. She was glaring at him and nervously watching his hand, fearful.

This was his chance. "Tell me why you hate Yoko Kurama."

"This isn't funny, Kurama," she insisted, moving closer, "Put it back in it's case _now_."

"Not until you tell me. You _know_ why I had to stay in that shape."

"Yes, I know, but that doesn't mean I had to like it. Especially with _two_ of you running around." She slowly shook her head, grimacing, trying not to look too desperate. "Put it down. _Please_."

"Why?"

"It's dangerous."

"That's not enough," Kurama pressed. "Tell me."

"I _can't_."

"Again: _why_? Irie, you can't keep getting angry with me and not telling me what I've done to upset you. I deserve to know. I want to _help_ you, but you have to tell me what's going on. Why can't you understand that?"

She rubbed her temples and took a deep breath, then held it. Ten. What could she tell him? Eight. Would he believe her? Six. How damaging would it be in the long run? Four. What did one _say_? Two.

"It's dangerous," she repeated, exhaling. "Not just the pen, but _telling_ you about it. Between that thing and the stuff I keep in the basement, I've made some powerful enemies, and knowing too much about them isn't safe. So just put it back." Irie met his eyes. "Please."

Maybe it was the pitiful tone she used, but he sighed and relented. She snatched the box away from him and proceeded to swiftly lock the gun vault back up. Once the front was finally shut, she leaned against it and let out a sigh of relief, but it really hadn't been enough to totally assuage her fury.

" _I can't believe you would do that to me!"_ she hissed, whirling about on the ball of her foot. "After I _explicitly_ told everyone in this house to not come up here, and not only do you, you open my _most secure vault_. How did you even do that? I-" She saw the eyeball sprouting from the plant, abandoned on the floor and staring at her, and she shivered. "That… that's so creepy. You made a replica of my fucking eye. You _creep_."

"I had to do _something_ to get by the scanner."

"How did you do it?" she demanded. "Did you break into my room while I was sleeping?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Of course not, I've never set foot in your bedroom."

"That's _it_ ," she declared, sounding manic. "I'm calling that brat Koenma and getting the lot of you _out of my house_ once and for all, even if it kills me to do it!"

"Whether you like it or not, Irie," he put in forcefully, "You're stuck with me for the foreseeable future, which means that we're going to have to learn to deal with one another. I can- I _want_ to help you, but you have _got to talk to me_."

She slowly shook her head. "I don't have to do a _damn_ thing for you."

Silently, she marched back to the stairs and slammed the door behind her, leaving Kurama feeling somehow more frustrated than he had before.

The next day, noon rolled around and there had been no sign of Irie, and no one was willing to knock on her door. Kuwabara and Yusuke were happy enough to have a shred of peace. This left Kurama pacing through the first floor, around and around in a circle and happy that the rooms were connected in such a way. He was fuming.

He'd thought that after their conversation in the last alternate universe, things would have been better, simpler between them, and maybe she would be more willing to open up. Now, he just felt frustrated. Why couldn't she see reason? He was in the _right._

Right?

A lesser man would have punched the wall. Kurama, instead, twitched his hand and flipped over an end table.

A decorative chest that had been sitting on top of it hit the ground and burst open, scattering its contents across the hardwood floor. With an irked huff, he crouched down and started collecting them together; who kept this many old, dried-out acorns in a box? A small, leather journal, the kind one could find at any old bookstore, lay open on the ground. Fantastic. The impact had bent some of the pages, and Irie was sure to notice if and when she wanted to read this. The edge of a fragile, orange leaf peered from between the damaged sheets, so he quickly opened to it to make sure nothing was irrevocably broken.

The leaf was fine, but it was the handful of highlighter-drawn hearts and lyrics from a love song that gave him pause. The handwriting was Irie's, but… honestly, hearts? There was even a thin, red line dancing around the words, each end topped with a little bow. To top it off, there was a pair of names at the bottom of the page, Irie's plus… the ink was too smudged to read. Their identity was lost underneath sloppy streaks of black.

He snapped it shut, the irritation flaring back up in his gullet, and dropped the journal carelessly back into the chest, dumping the acorns and other bric-a-brac on top. Good gods, this human girl was as frivolous as a sixteen-year-old, she'd just switched out the sentimental songs with clothes. He'd had enough of that during his high school years, and he refused to put up with it, now. In fact, he caught himself remembering exactly _why_ he'd wanted to leave the human world as soon as possible.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Yusuke, I won't stand to have him under my roof any longer! Either you tell Koenma that he has to go, or I'll go jump out of the attic window and tell him myself!"

"Woah, hang on-!"

There was a clatter of wood-on-wood, and from his position on the bottom step, Kurama could see the corner of the sword cabinet's door fly open and smack an armchair nearby. He heard a scuffle, and guessed that she'd yanked a weapon down. Yep, there it was: Yusuke had smacked a large dagger out of her hand and it slid across the floor, stopping just feet away from Kurama.

She was grunting. "Let- _go of_ me-!"

"Hey," Yusuke requested softly, "Sit down."

It was the calmest Kurama had ever heard him. He angled himself so that he could watch them through the hallway mirror, and was surprised that Irie did as Yusuke asked, yanking her wrist out of his grasp and dropping onto the couch. She looked like she was close to a nervous breakdown, like she would explode if anything heavier than a feather touched her.

"Listen. Koenma had a little chat with me before we started all this." Yusuke leaned forward, watching her as she stared at the coffee table. "And, if there was any trouble, he wanted me to remind you that you owe him. From what I understand, you owe him a _lot_. You're lucky to be alive, Endo."

She stiffened. "What… did he say, exactly?"

"Enough. He didn't name names."

"I was seventeen. I learned my lesson."

"And? I was fifteen when I beat the snot out of Sensui and headed off the end of the human world."

"Well, not all of us have such a strong moral compass at such a tender age," she snapped. "I might add that you weren't exactly helping, at the time."

Yusuke put his hands up. "Hey, this isn't about who did what or who was at fault back then," he sternly pressed. "I told you both this morning, I expect you to have this worked out by tomorrow. I'm not asking you to marry each other, but a little cooperation would be appreciated."

"But Kurama-!"

"Fucked up," Yusuke finished, "I know. I'll talk to him about it. It won't happen again."

She was quiet for a little while, until she finally said, "Fine. Fine. Just keep him away from me."

"We're trying the TV again tomorrow, so you'll have a decent amount of time apart."

"Great." Irie stood up, her fingertips pressed to the side of her head. "Y'all are on your own for dinner. I've got a migraine the size of China. There are leftovers in the fridge, if you want them."

Kurama heard the sounds of her footsteps leave the room, going towards the kitchen and, luckily, not his hiding spot. He leaned against the wall and waited, staring down at the sword. The door to the basement opened, then shut again. After, Yusuke ambled to the landing, picking up the sheathed weapon with an eyebrow cocked on an otherwise flat expression.

"Why'd you do it?" he asked.

"Do what?" Kurama replied innocently, idly inspecting his nails.

"Oh, come on." Yusuke huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I know you were listening. Why'd you break into the attic like that?"

"Old bandit king's habit, I suppose." He glanced casually at Yusuke, then stared ahead at the railing. "What, er… what was this conversation with Koenma about?"

The shoulders shrugged. "Sorry, pal," Yusuke waved off, "Can't tell you. Koenma said it's need-to-know. Especially if you're not gonna be honest with me."

"Oh, but I don't need to know?"

"Nah."

"I suppose Koenma would have told me if I did."

"I suppose he would."

They watched each other for a while, Yusuke with that damnably smug half-smirk on his face. The two of them had been friends for nearly a decade, at this point, and were in it for many, _many_ more, but this was the first time Kurama had ever known him to not be entirely open.

"Why're you so pissed?" Yusuke asked finally, barely containing a snicker.

Returning the smile, Kurama said, "I'm perfectly fine."

"Is it 'cause we won't tell you about Irie's dirty laundry? Sheesh, you're so nosy. Next thing you know, we'll catch you raiding her panty drawer-"

"I said I'm _fine_ ," he cut off roughly. "The only one around here who'd stoop to something like that is _you_. Possibly Kuwabara."

"Whatever," Yusuke said finally, lifting his arms overhead to stretch. "We need to lighten the damn mood around here, if you two aren't gonna make up."

"Oh? And what would you suggest?"

"Eh. I'll think of something." Yusuke squished past him on the stairs. "You should go down to the lab and see if Kaito needs any help."

"Right…"

In fact, he bumped into Kaito just as he was leaving the laboratory, firmly shutting the door just after Kurama caught a brief glimpse of the bright, fluorescent lights still glowing.

"Aren't you going to turn those out?" he asked, nodding towards the door.

"Endo's still in there," Kaito replied, stifling a yawn. "Said she'll be there for a while. At least we don't have to put up with you two at dinner."

"Wait," Kurama said, frowning. "What's she doing?"

"Fiddling with her alien-thing. Hell if I know what any of that's about." Kaito started climbing the steps, his careless attitude incensing Kurama. "Biotech isn't my area of expertise, and she doesn't know enough to explain it to me."

So it was still alive, Kurama thought, looking back at the lab door. His disagreement with her aside, his curiousity got the better of him again. At least his was a room in which he was allowed. Bolstering himself, preparing for another round of shouting, he pushed open the heavy door.

Irie was tipping something pink into an upside-down flask hooked up to the massive machines that acted as the little grey lump's life support system. Screwing the cap back on, she hit a switch and waited, watching the screens. After a moment, she let out a sigh of relief and smiled, touching the glass tube.

"Looks like I'll have you running around sooner than I thought, Jelly Bun," she said softly. Kurama followed her gaze to her monster, and his jaw dropped just a fraction of an inch.

The tube had been covered up the last time he'd been in the lab, days ago, and it had been hiding quite a marked change in the embryo's development: not only had it grown exponentially, the nubs were now spindly limbs, ending in three blunt digits a piece, and the head was massive, easily the size of a cantaloupe. It made the neck, which hadn't been there before, look like a toothpick. Eyelids were fused over the tennis-ball-sized sockets, twitching every so often as if it were dreaming. Kurama felt a heavy feeling of dread settle on his shoulders.

"What in the world…?" he breathed.

Irie jumped and stood up a little straighter, as if to block her creature from view. "What do you want, Kurama?" she demanded, frowning.

"I know you hate this question," he began, slowly approaching the tube. "But what is that?"

"Jelly Bun," she said evasively. "You've seen him plenty of times."

" _Jelly Bun_."

She shrugged, sheepish. "It's what he looked like before this happened…"

"What _did_ happen?"

He noticed deep, dark moons under her eyes, even though she'd tried to hide them underneath layers and layers of makeup, and thought that he should have seen them much sooner. The exhaustion presumably caught up with her, as she didn't try to be horrible to him. She slumped forward on a lab table, hands over her face, and groaned.

"I don't _know_ ," she said thickly through her fingers. "Whatever was going on when we went to that other universe interacted with my portal-lag solution weirdly and did _this_ in two days! Do you know how long I've been growing this thing? It took _years_ to take him from a dozen cells to what he was a week ago. Now, he just won't stop."

Kurama inspected the creature through the glass. It was neither human, nor demon, nor was it anything in between. "Does Koenma know about this?" he asked.

She shook her head and looked back up. "I don't think so," she admitted. "He's one of my biggest secrets. Masanori's the only one outside of the mansion who really knows about him." Giving him a tired, pointed look, she shortly added, "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't _tell_ Koenma."

He slowly shook his head. "Of course, not." Kurama noticed that she was staring at the tube with glassy, unseeing eyes. "How did you get him, anyway?" he pressed. Tired people gave up secrets more easily than alert ones. Well, for the most part. In Irie's case, she just kept staring, her breathing slowing until she seemed to nearly stop. "Irie?"

She didn't respond until he shook her shoulder, and suddenly she was upright, eyes cast to the floor. "Sorry, spaced out," she said in a hollow tone. "Uh… what did you say?"

"I asked how you got your hands on an alien zygote in the first place."

"Oh, um…" She shook her head and gulped. "We- _I_ …" Another sigh, as if she were collecting herself. "Seiyu. We got him at Seiyu."

That made him laugh. "If that's not a lie, then I don't know what is," Kurama chuckled, running a hand through his bangs.

"I didn't say we acquired him _legally_ ," she grumbled, looking beyond drained.

"You can't just pick up an alien at a supermarket."

"I'm serious!" she hissed in a tight voice. "I'm growing an alien in my goddamn basement, just beneath an TV that spits you out into alternate universes, and _that's_ the part that you find unbelievable?"

"I'm sorry." He'd taken the laughing down to a grin. "What was a Seiyu doing with an alien?"

"Shit, dude, we were too busy running away to ask questions. You don't just _steal_ something like this from the Wal*Mart corporation." Her voice dropped to nearly a whisper, strained.

What? "Wal*Mart?" he echoed. "I thought you said it was a Seiyu?"

"Yeah, and they're owned by Wal*Mart." Irie watched as a short stream of fat bubbles travelled up the side of the tube and vanished. "And Wal*Mart doesn't like to be played." She looked up to him. "You don't believe me, do you?" she murmured, shaking her head just a little.

"I'm not saying-"

But she'd already gotten up and was heading towards the door. He followed, out of rule-imposed habit, but the disappointment was palpable. "I'm going to bed now," she said without looking back. "Don't bother me unless there's an emergency." She didn't wait for a reply. She just left.

With a sigh, Kurama leaned against the table and looked toward Jelly Bun with a puzzled smile. "At least she talked to me," he said to the alien, wondering if it could hear him. "That's something. Right?"

Jelly Bun didn't reply. Kurama hadn't expected it to. It probably would have taken Irie's side, anyway.

* * *

Everyone was amazed the next morning when Irie not only deigned to be in the same room as Kurama, but she also refrained from making the back-handed comments that had become so commonplace, lately. Yusuke, Kaito, and Kuwabara were ecstatic, though Kurama knew a bit better; he and Irie had exchanged a single glance, and though it was much warmer than it had been before, her eyes were wary. She didn't trust that he could keep the secret to himself. Well, he wasn't going to try to convince her otherwise. Not right now.

"So, as you all are aware," Kaito began, acting as if he were giving a classroom presentation, "I've been working for the last few days on a solution to our biggest issue, which is precise dimensional landing. It's literally impossible to pinpoint in which universe you're going to land. A thought occurred to me: how does one choose a channel on a television?" He waved his project a little in his hand. "With a remote. Since your primary mode of travel is, indeed, a teevee, then it isn't much of a stretch to think that a properly modified remote control will allow us to choose our destination."

"Except," Irie cut in, "As I've already explained to you, we've tried that before. It doesn't work like that."

"Ah, but you didn't have a genius to tinker around with it, did you?" he asked with a condescending smile.

"Don't let Shinjuko hear you say that…" she grumbled, but Kuwabara elbowed her quiet.

Ignoring her, Kaito continued, "So, I'm putting forward a hypothesis of sorts for you to test. We'll put in simple coordinates and the team will see where they lead. After you return, we'll change the channel, as it were, to the next in the sequence. If we start with One, we'll move on to Two, and so on and so forth."

"You think the changes in universe will be trackable that way," Irie finished, rolling her eyes and sagging back into the squashy couch. "So then we'll later be able to find the precise channel that leads to our universe's version of the Makai. We write down the channel code, hand it over to Koenma, and he can use my living room as his own personal boarding zone."

"Something like that, yes. And we'll be out of your hair, too," he pointed out.

"Wonderful."

"I think we should absolutely go to at least the first universe today," Kurama said. "The sooner, the better. Agreed?"

They all saw the look that flashed between him and Irie. _Wow_ , did the room get uncomfortable. "Agreed," repeated Yusuke, coughing into his hand. "Kaito, how fast can you get it up and running?"

"A few minutes."

"Give it about fifteen," Irie piped up, her face pink. "You'll need time to pack a bag. You know, flashlight, matches, change of clothes. Don't know what's going to happen on the other side, so you'll need to be prepared."

"I can do that," Kuwabara said with a grin. "Doubt anyone on this team is any better at it than I am. 'Cept maybe Kurama."

"I'll help!" Irie offered, jumping up far faster than Kuwabara could stand. "I've been doing it for years, after all. Even got a couple of spares lying around and ready to go."

"Finally," Kuwabara remarked approvingly, "Someone who doesn't let shit fly by the seat of their pants." Kurama and Irie snorted softly, but didn't care to elaborate.

As they went to the stairs, Kurama called over his shoulder, "Don't forget climbing gear."

"Wouldn't dream of leaving home without it!" Irie retorted.

When it was safe, Yusuke lofted an eyebrow at Kurama. "... Care to explain that?" he asked.

"If you tell me what Koenma said."

"Did you two have an adventure that we aren't aware of?"

"Depends."

"Crap, man!" Yusuke decried, holding his arms akimbo, "It's no wonder she hates you."

"Humans have an interesting notion of 'hatred,' then."

Yusuke held out his hands in a disbelieving way, frowning. "Hiei," he started flatly, "How in the _world_ did you get in here?"

The cool, ruby gaze was bored as it swept over the room. "Quite easily with the security system completely disarmed."

Out of all the people he'd met during his last journey, alternate-Hiei had been the one Kurama wanted to meet the most. He watched his friend and, deep in thought, inadvertently drew him into a staredown.

"Can I help you, Kurama?" he asked dryly.

Kurama put on a smile. "Just wondering why you're here." His face was beginning to strain a bit from all of this forced pleasantness.

"Koenma sent me." Promptly, Hiei turned turned to Yusuke. "He wanted me to let you know that your request from last night has been approved. Botan was supposed to return to you today, but in light of the plans that need to be made, she's busy making the necessary arrangements and should be expected to arrive no later than tomorrow." His eyes narrowed the smallest bit. "Don't make me be a messenger again. You know how I loathe it."

"Awesome!" Yusuke was clearly ignoring the disguised threat. "You're gonna stick around and hang out with us, right?"

"No."

"Aw, _Hiei_ ," Yusuke pleaded, slapping a hand on his back, "Be a sport. The four of us haven't done anything fun together in ages!"

"We broke into this house together."

"You think that was fun?" He glowered at Yusuke until the hand was removed. "I don't know what you fools are doing, nor do I care. I simply came to deliver a message and leave."

"Fair enough," said Kurama. "Yusuke, you know better than to press Hiei."

"Pft, no, I don't."

Hiei tipped his head to the side, just a little, and smirked. "Your _fan_ club is coming back, Kurama," he guyed, looking out the window. Clearly counting the seconds until he was free to leave.

"Listen, Hiei," he sighed, "Constant sarcasm doesn't suit you very well."

"As if I care."

"Who the shit are you?" Irie had paused on the steps with a ridiculously large pack on her back to study Hiei. "And how did you get in my house?"

"Hey!" Kuwabara greeted, "When'd you get here? Are you stickin' around?"

"Not likely." He cast the briefest glance towards Irie. "Hn. Your defenses are lower than they were the last time I was here. That made it extremely easy to enter. Be glad I chose not to destroy those _things_ on the front of your doors."

" _Things_ …?" she mouthed, befuddled, before it hit her that he was talking about the camels. She opened her mouth to say something else to him, but he went back to talking to Yusuke.

"You're to give your next mission report to Botan upon her arrival, and she'll send it back to Reikai. I was told I wouldn't be needed for that."

"Nope," Yusuke agreed. "But we _could_ use you on this mission, bud. No telling what we'll be looking at, could be handy to have a fast guy in the group."

"Don't worry," Kaito murmured quietly in Irie's ear as he showed her the finer points of the additions to the remote. "Hiei gives me the creeps, too."

' _I heard that_.'

Irie and Kaito both jumped, looking first at each other then at Hiei. His voice had rung clearly in both of their minds, but he hadn't verbally said a word.

"... like you said," Irie muttered to Kaito. "The fucking _creeps_."

Thankfully, Hiei left as soon as the rest of the group declared themselves ready to go, and the second that Kaito started punching in the numbers, writing them down on a sheet of paper as he went, the demon intruder was out the door without a word. Except, of course, for his growled " _Stupid creatures"_ to the camel heads that only Kurama could hear and laugh at.

Yusuke was watching the television come to life with a pack on the ground by his side when he gave Irie the friendliest smile he'd offered all day. "So, kid, you coming with?"

"I don't think so," she turned down, reclaiming her seat at the couch. "I've had enough adventure to last me for a while, I think. Besides, you said I didn't have to, remember?"

Kaito chimed in, "You can help me out while they're away. Teach me about your organizational system. I know you code the worlds you go to."

"Ew, no," Yusuke laughed. "C'mon, Endo, you know I only said that because you and Kurama've been at each other's throats. Since you're at least being nice, today, why don't you take your mind _off_ the mansion for a little while?"

"I don't know…" She looked longingly at the television. It was tugging at her limbs, as it so often did, desperately begging for her to slip inside for one more exploit; for old times' sake. "I shouldn't."

Suddenly, Yusuke grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her to her feet. "Look, I asked Koenma to let Botan bring us something fun to do, but I want it to be a surprise. You wouldn't want to ruin that, would you?"

With a disgusted, teen-like eyeroll, she relented. They found out that she kept a spare go-bag in the coat closet under the stairs for just such an occasion, and Kurama wanted to pluck up the nerve to ask her what the bottles were for when she grabbed a pair from a drawer in the entertainment center, but couldn't bring himself to. Luckily, Kuwabara had that covered for him.

Pointing, he asked, "What're those?"

"I get portal-lagged easily," she said automatically, tucking them carefully into an easy-to-reach side-pocket. "You know, sort of like sea- or car-sickness? These are sort of like medicine that my friends and I mixed up a long time ago, and they usually help."

"Right on."

Yusuke beamed broadly at the television, looking happier than he had. "Alright!" he exclaimed, "Everybody ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," Irie grumbled.

" _Yes_ ," Kurama said over her.

"Hey, you two," Yusuke said over his shoulder, "Get along, or I'll turn the car around."

Both of them mock-saluted in a rare display of synchronicity, and they followed his lead into the tacky, white portal.

"Good luck…" Kaito said behind them.

To Irie, the tunnel felt sticky, crowded. Too loud. She couldn't hear, but the vibrations made by the others in the thick atmosphere were harsh enough to shake her teeth. There hadn't been such a large group crushed into the portal in years. Stopping, she clenched and relaxed her fingers at her sides, over and over again. The distance grew between her and the others slowly: first a foot, then a meter, then five.

Yusuke turned around and waved insistently for her to keep following.

"Yeah, I'm right behind you!" she called, momentarily forgetting that they couldn't hear her.

One by one, they filed out of the portal-purgatory, Kurama at the forefront. There was a sharp step down, but he managed to keep his footing and walk out of the trunk of a large, old oak tree into the middle of a forest clearing. Mentally, he marked this down as the most pleasant exit from the television that he'd experienced so far, and he was glad when Kuwabara and Yusuke followed suit.

"That wasn't so bad," Kuwabara said, flicking a bit of portal-goo from his shoulder.

"Yeah." Yusuke shaded his eyes with his hand to look around the forest- sunny, filled with birdsong. "I'd even call this a nice vacation spot if it wasn't a literal world away."

"Yes, quite enchanting," Kurama joked, "Don't you think, Iri-?" He stopped, confused. She hadn't come out, yet, apparently. The three of them stood, staring at the flickering portal set within the tree.

"You don't think she got lost, do you?" Kuwabara asked.

"No." Yusuke shook his head and set his hands on his hips. "She doesn't get lost, not in there."

"Maybe she turned back…" Kurama suggested. The thought, which he kept repeating to himself, was the only thing keeping his heart rate at a normal speed, but it was silenced by the set of Yusuke's jaw. They were coming to the same conclusion.

"She was definitely behind me," he said firmly. "I just saw her."

"Endo?" Kuwabara approached the portal, leaning in as close as he dared. "Endo! Can you hear me?"

"Why does she always have to get herself into trouble?" Kurama muttered. " _Irie!_ " He practically shoved Kuwabara out of the way, hand outstretched, but just as quickly as his fingers dipped into the mire of the portal, it closed. He had barely enough time to pull back.

"You don't think she's still in there?" Kuwabara whispered.

Yusuke shook his head. "I sure as hell hope not…"

Kurama turned to his friends and demanded, "Well? She can't be far. If she's lingering within the tunnel, then we have to find the way back. Who knows what happens to humans who stay there for too long?" Yusuke grabbed his shoulder to keep him from running off too quickly.

"Look, man, I'm sure she's fine," he insisted. "I agree we should find her before we do anything else, but this is Endo. She knows her way around stuff like this better than we do, I bet-"

"The last time I let her out of my sight in a different world," Kurama explained in a low, barely patient tone, wrenching away from Yusuke's touch, "She nearly got herself killed. And I knew roughly where she was, then. I hate to think of how quickly she'll fall into trouble now that we have little to _no_ idea."

"It'll be alright." Yusuke wasn't sure what was more concerning, Irie being missing or Kurama getting worked up.

"It had better be. Koenma will have our heads if we lose her."

* * *

There was a canopy hanging over her head, but it definitely wasn't the one to which Irie was accustomed. Had she passed out in Shinjuko's bed? Why? Rubbing her eyes and groaning in a low, crackly voice, she struggled to sit up; the weight of a massive coverlet and velvet clothes tried to hold her down. Her eyes adjusted, but her brain was still sluggish. Rather than wondering where she was and why, she asked, "Did I go to sleep…?"

Her brain jumped into overdrive when an unfamiliar voice chirruped, "O, good morn to thee, Princess! I wast wond'ring at which hour thee wouldst awaken!"

"What the _shit_?!" A very beautiful young woman was watching her with a kindly, concerned smile from beneath the veil-styled cointoise of a pointed hennin,* even as Irie yanked the coverlet up to her shoulders. "Who the hell are you?" she demanded.

The giant, brown eyes blinked at her from beneath the swath of periwinkle fabric. "But I am Rapunzel, dear ladye. What art thou named?"

"Irie…" she said slowly, still holding her baffled, terrified expression. Her sight drifted down Rapunzel's gown, so stereotypically "princess-y," and dropped to the long trumpet-sleeves hanging from her own wrists. "Aw, _hell_ no," she swore under her breath. "We ended up in a goddamn fairy tale."

* * *

 ***cointoise/hennin** : You know those cone-shaped princess hats with the fabric coming out of the tip? Yeah, those.

 **Author's Note:** And here's my late chapter of Grisaille! I'm very sorry for the wait, but I had to edit this chapter and even start over once or twice until I was happy with where it was going. This version ties into the plot much better than it had initially.

I've been posting a lot of art/playlists/etc. pertaining to Grisaille on my tumblr blog (grisaille-dreams), so please check it out! Just today, I posted a picture of the journal entry that Kurama found in this chapter (it was a lot of fun to make, I couldn't help myself).

Special thanks to my reviewers: **owlloveyou** and **CassieL**. I really appreciate you two for regularly leaving me your thoughts and feedback!

The next chapter won't take nearly as long to put out- it'll be fun.

Lots of love, GrisailleDreams


	8. Holding Out for a Hero

_There were plenty of things that I had left out when I told the guys and Botan about the portal; secrets that I was too ashamed to reveal, questions that I never thought that I could answer, explanations that hadn't seemed important. At that moment, my thoughts were revolving around the latter._

 _I knew that there were different levels and kinds of dimension, and I should have told them that. I knew that there was a chance that separation might happen upon entry, and I could have mentioned that. I knew that some worlds adhered to a stricter set of "rules" than others, like this one, and I could have told them_ that. _And I knew that the Omniverse liked to prey on emotions. I never thought I would have to deal with that again, but I should have known better. Especially after the last time, with Kurama, but I liked to lie to myself about that._

 _The things I knew and didn't tell the guys about interdimensional travel could have provided enough material to earn a university degree._

Irie shook away her internal monologue and kept digging through her bag, choosing instead to think of how lucky she was that it had decided to land with her, rather than the guys. Wherever they were. Shit.

"Finally, _pants_ ," she muttered to herself, yanking out her spare clothes. She _hated_ it when the universes forced her into their outfits. Diving behind a screen tucked away in a corner (if a round tower could be said to have a corner), she started tearing at the laced-up bodice.

"But my Lady, what art thee doing?" came the musical voice.

Irie paused, then hung her head back. _Uggggghhhh._ " _Changing_ ," she whined back, pulling the blue, crushed-velvet gown over her head. Good gods, there were at least two other layers under it. "Dresses aren't exactly good for climbing down towers."

"'Climbing…?'" Rapunzel repeated, puzzled. "Thee canst climb down from this tower."

"And why ever not?" The green kirtle was slung over the side of the screen, soon followed by a thin chemise. "I saw vines hanging down from your balcony, I can just use those. Unless there's a way out that you haven't shown me?"

"'Tis impossible," Rapunzel insisted, sighing and settling herself delicately upon a divan. "The window is the only way out, and mine hair the only way up or down."

"Okay." Irie drew the machete from the bag's side pocket built for such things and clipped the sheath to a belt loop before emerging from her meager privacy. "So might you let me climb down your hair?"

Tipping her beautiful, blonde head to the side, Rapunzel frowned and said, "Thy robes art so strange."

"Yeah, but can I climb down your hair?" Irie was considering the golden necklace had been around her neck when she awoke, but she let it dangle between her fingers so she could reiterate her question with a pointed look at her current company. "I've got friends wandering around who're probably looking for me."

"Well, I supposeth thee may." She let out a dreamy sigh and leaned heavily on the stone side of the balcony. "'Tis how my true love must taketh his leave of me."

"Ooh, the Princess has a Prince Charming?" The necklace dropped into Irie's bag with a twinkle of a diamond, and the jewel-studded net keeping her hair up was whipped off for deliberation. She did, after all, have monstrous bills to pay, and a lifestyle to uphold, with or without Koenma's monthly stipend.

"'Tis true~"

Irie eyeballed a ruby-encrusted bangle lying haphazardly on a table, then decided against taking it. "Alright," she sighed, placing her hands on her hips. "Let's get to it, then. The sooner I leave, the sooner I can find my idiots and get out of this forest."

Happily, Rapunzel hitched her braid to a hook hanging down from the overhanging roof before tossing all eighty feet of golden hair over the side. "If it pleaseth thee, good Lady," she offered sweetly.

Hesitating for just the briefest moment, Irie gingerly gripped the veritable rope. "Doesn't it hurt?" she asked, suddenly wondering if she _should_ do this.

"Nay. I am accustomed to 't."

"Awesome…"

Irie clambered onto the rough stone wall, hair in hand, and turned around with her back to the forest below. This was the worst part of descending. "Here I go…" she breathed. Forcing a smile, she fluttered her fingers. "Great meeting you, Rapunzel. See ya 'round~" Closing her eyes, she jumped backwards off the ledge.

This was the part where she would normally fall, swinging forward, and have her feet touch the edge of the tower. However, this apparently wasn't a normal tower, because she was bounced right back onto the balcony, landing unceremoniously on her ass.

" _What the hell?!_ " she hissed. The rest of Rapunzel's hair came flying up along with her, piling heavily over Irie's shoulders. "... No, really. What the hell?"

"Oh, my stars." Rapunzel peered over the edge of the tower, stretching out a hand and being zapped by whatever force had kept Irie inside. "It seems Dame Gothel hath perchance placed an enchantment on mine tower to keepeth me inside."

"That's _fantastic_ ," Irie growled, scrambling to her feet. " _Now_ how am I supposed to get out?"

"Mine own love hath said many a time that he wouldst taketh me from this tower one day," Rapunzel wistfully put in, looking out over the wood. "Mayhap you, too, are destined to wait for thy true love."

"That… actually makes a lot of sense." It wasn't an enchantment, she didn't think. Rather, it was merely a "rule" of this universe- if Rapunzel wasn't able to leave of her own accord, then Irie couldn't, either.

She rested her chin on her hand and stared at the scenery, too. It was lovely, thousands of kilometers of thick, dark pine trees as far as the eye could see. Even if she tried, she doubted that she could see the guys through the old growth. Really, she was wracking her brains for any scrap of memory of the Rapunzel story- she knew the name, but hadn't heard the tale. Her American cousins were all about the Disney stories like _The Little Mermaid_ and _Beauty and the Beast_. She straightened up. Screaming into the void seemed worth a shot.

" _Yusuke!"_ she bellowed, cupping her hands around her mouth, _"Kuwabara! Kurama, you assholes, come get me!_ "

Good gods, how had they _lost_ her? Kurama was gradually going insane as their search of the surrounding area came up fruitless. He was decent at tracking people, and all three of them should at _least_ have been able to find her energy signal; it wasn't like her spirit energy was strong, necessarily, but there was always something.

"I swear," he said irritably, rubbing his temples, "This is the _last_ time I bring her along."

"At least give it until the _second_ adventure before you make that decision." Yusuke came crashing through the underbrush, furiously scratching at both arms. "Do you have _any_ idea how much poison ivy is growing over there?"

He gave Yusuke a cursory once-over. "None. You're imagining it because the leaves keep touching you."

"Oh."

"You probably ran into a few spiderwebs, as well."

" _Great_."

Together, they went back to where they'd left Kuwabara, near the oak tree from which they'd come. For now, he wasn't in sight, so Yusuke and Kurama took the opportunity to sit on massive roots that had gracefully arched in and out of the earth like the Loch Ness monster.

"I didn't think a human could get under your skin this much."

Kurama hadn't realized he was glowering up at the canopy until Yusuke cut through his thoughts. "She's not 'under my skin,'" he said slowly. "She's a lot of trouble, is what she is."

"That's not what it looks like," Yusuke replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Unless this is one of those weird 'you hate her because you like her' things-"

" _No_."

The sharpness of his answer made Yusuke laugh, and he hadn't let up by the time Kuwabara came back.

"Any luck finding it?" Kurama asked over the noise.

"Nah." Kuwabara thunked Yusuke over the head. "Cool it, Urameshi. It ain't funny."

"This shit's _hilarious_."

While Kurama decided whether or not murder would be worth either the effort of the act or the reward of Yusuke's silence, Yusuke suddenly slapped a hand over his mouth, struggling to stifle his giggling while tapping his ear with a finger and then wildly pointing it outwards. Kurama angled his ear in the same direction, and the three of them fell entirely silent as the heavy steps drew nearer. They weren't human.

Hooves flattened the undergrowth of the forest and snapped twigs, percussion to the melody of cheerful whistling. Through the trees, the gang saw a horse and rider ambling by, seemingly unaware of their presence.

Kuwabara balked. "Wait, don't we know that guy?"

The fair, smiling youth's hair was just long enough to tie back in this world, but it was still undoubtedly Kiyoshi Mitarai, the psychic that none of them had seen since the Sensui incident- though Kuwabara occasionally kept up with him over the phone. This was quite possibly the happiest Kurama had ever seen him, and he assumed that it had little to do with the rich way in which he was clothed. It was all in his eyes. Clear, bright, and unwounded, like he had never had to face the horrors that came from being one of Sensui's Seven.

"Hey, Seaman!"

Kuwabara waved, a big grin plastered on his face like he'd forgotten that, in this world, Mitarai probably wouldn't know them. In fact, Kurama was proven correct when the horse stopped, and the gang was stared at like the pack of strangers that they were. "Greetings, travelers," Mitarai called; he wasn't suspicious, but also not entirely trusting. "May I be of some assistance to thee?"

"He won't know us," Kurama murmured when he saw the crestfallen look on Kuwabara's face. "We likely don't exist in this world, and if we do…"

"Then we're strangers," Yusuke finished. "Got it. Uh, yeah, guy. We're actually looking for someone, maybe you've seen her? About this high, brown hair, weird ass tattoo on her face, goes between being a loudmouth and a brooding, angsty teenager?"

Mitarai shook his head slowly, confused. "Nay… Forgiveth me, but thy description 'tisn't familiar. A maiden, sayeth thee? One wouldst be hard-pressed to find a ladye wandering about the woods alone."

"Yeah, she's a… special case." Yusuke's particular emphasis on the word 'special' earned him a dark glare from Kurama. _Not the time._

"In fact, thou art the first people I've seen in these parts of the forest in quite some time," Mitarai continued, the determined smile returning to his face. "None dare enter the Witch's Wood."

"Witch?" Kuwabara asked, perturbed, "What witch?"

"Dame Gothel. Her stronghold lies within the heart of this forest, and she is indeed most fearsome."

While Kuwabara and Yusuke mulled that over, Kurama had already leaped mentally to the obvious guess: was she there? With an evil, storybook witch? Knowing their luck thus far, the safest answer was very likely a resounding _yes_. Hopefully, though would find out sooner, rather than later.

"And what brings _you_ out here, if it's so scary?" Yusuke asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

A glow, a sparkle of light hit Mitarai's face like the purest sunbeam, and he wistfully answered, "My princess. My one and only true love. The witch holds her captive in a tower from which there is no escape, and we are only able to steal but the briefest of hours together."

While Kuwabara launched into a discussion with Mitarai (" _Forget the princess, whaddya mean you don't know who I am? What about Sensui?!"_ ), a high, distant voice floated overhead, warbling out a song in a familiar way that made Kurama think of peach trees. It faded a little, like an out-of-tune radio… and started back again with far more clarity.

" _And you can tell everybody that this is your song~"_

Elton John? _Really_?

"Found her," Kurama said softly, staring off in the direction from which the voice came. No one said a word, and he realized that the others were staring at _him_. "Can…?" He held up a finger, indicating to the continuing music. "Can _any_ of you hear that?"

"Hear _what_?" Yusuke asked.

Kurama huffed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Irie. She's singing. _That_ direction."

"Mayhaps he hears the melody of true love?" Mitarai's dreamy gaze was following Kurama's finger, followed by his wistful sigh on the air. "'Tis where my princess lives in her tower. She calls for me with a song, and all I need do is follow." He lapsed into another daydream, from which Kurama had to urgently shake him. Putting two and two together was simple.

Inescapable tower? Music acting as a lure to draw in a loved one? Well, they were barely _friends_ , let alone lovers, but maybe this universe wasn't terribly picky.

"How far is the tower?" he pressed, "And what's the fastest way to get there? I think our missing friend might be inside with your princess."

Mitarai jumped from his horse in a very heroic fashion that he wouldn't have been able to accomplish back in their other world, and held the reins out to Kurama. "Half a league!" he announced with a most serious expression. "Take my horse, man, go to her. I know the way, even if I can't hear the song; I shall lead the rest of the party on foot. Be wary of the bend in the river, 'tis quite treacherous."

Thank the gods that fairy tale characters were so predictable.

But when was the last time that Kurama had ridden a _horse_?

The white steed tore into a full gallop with the lightest squeeze of Kurama's legs, and as the beast hauled itself majestically over a chest-high log, he was glad that whatever magic working upon him allowed him to hear her over the sound of hoofbeats. She'd moved on from _Your Song_ and picked up some drivel from a few years back, another love song that was definitely aimed at teenaged Japanese girls, and her voice got louder as he came within non-magical hearing distance. At least that second choice was mercifully short; she didn't suit it in the least.

" _Where have all the good men gone, and where are all the gods?"_

It was a struggle to not laugh at the frustration in her voice. This was a love song on a technicality, but it was a subtle dig at her travelling companions if ever there had been one. He could just hear her, now: _What took you so long, dumbass?_

The river seemed to melt into being as he broke through the trees, and the horse, by some miracle, cleared it with a mighty leap. Maybe Mitarai had made the jump before? How far had they been riding? Who measured things in _leagues_ , anymore?

" _I can feel his approach like the fire in my blood~ I need a hero!_ "

She was dramatically leaning against the stone wall of the tower balcony, posing as if she were imagining herself in some American music video from the eighties when he jerked on the reins to bring the horse to a sudden stop at the base; clods of dirt and grass flew up from the force. Irie had been too involved with it to notice his arrival, or the fact that he was watching her with an amused grin playing across his face.

"Enjoying yourself?" he called, snapping her out of her fun.

"Goddammit," she muttered under her breath, leaning over the edge of the balcony to frown at him. There was a light flush of pink on her cheeks. "Of _course_ it was you. Hey!" Her voice raised so that he could hear it. "You're not wearing shining armor, I want my money back! Or a replacement knight."

"Forgive me, _princess_."

"Don't call me that."

"Really, though, Bonnie Tyler?"

"Well, _I_ thought it was quite appropriate. If that didn't work, I was going to resort to drastic measures."

"Oh?"

" _Come What May_ is the greatest love song of this century, and you can't tell me any differently."

"If you think so."

Irie looked like she wanted to smack the smirk off his face, but she was distracted by a loud, feminine squeal, and Rapunzel darted to her side, positively _glowing_ at the sight of Kurama.

"How _wonderful_!" she gushed, clutching Irie's arm. "Thine true love _didst_ hear you call for him, and here he is to taketh you from mine tower!"

"He's not my _anything_ ," Irie groaned, slipping from her grasp. "D'you think you might…?"

"Oh, of course!"

Her braid fell down the side of the tower and landed a few feet in front of Kurama, who'd slipped from his saddle until he was back on solid ground and was now eyeing the rope of blonde hair with suspicion.

"I have climbing gear, you know," he reminded Irie dryly, shrugging at the bag over his shoulder.

But she shook her head. "Won't work. It has to be the hair or not at all, unfortunately. And _yes_ I tried to climb down, already. Clearly, I was unsuccessful."

"What makes you think I'll do any different?" Kurama asked, grasping the plait and placing a foot against the stones.

"It's how the universe works. Trust me, Prince Charming, you'll be fine. I'll explain it later."

She watched him scale the side of the tower with a small smile. _He came for her_. That big, dumb, wonderful idiot, of course he had. Irie thought that maybe she'd have to remind herself later to be less horrible to him, if only for a little while. Even if she had to murder the warm fuzzies that were blossoming in her belly, reiterating to herself that it wasn't personal. Just professional.

But, of course, like every fairy tale, it couldn't even be _this_ simple.

A cold, claw-like hand snatched at her shoulder and yanked her back; Irie had been watching Kurama too intently to notice the look of panic in Rapunzel's eyes, and was taken entirely by surprise. Long hair as dark and shimmering as the twilight, eyes like coals threatening to spark to life, and every facial feature twisted by rage; she knew that face. And Irie started screeching like a panicked cat, trying desperately to struggle away from the woman's grasp. To no avail. Her captor simply looked over the side of the tower and bared her teeth with disgust.

"You've led _outsiders_ to my tower?" she hissed, whirling on Rapunzel as she threw Irie back inside, letting her fall to the floor. "How dare you!"

"Nay, Dame Gothel!" Rapunzel protested, her head still leaning over the side of the tower. "The ladye simply appeared, I promise thee!"

As Rapunzel scrambled to tell her side of the story, Kurama was trying to climb as fast as he could, eventually able to grasp the edge of the balcony. He called out for Irie- Dame Gothel's fingers snared into the front of his scalp, forcing his head back and causing him to start to lose his grip on the stone.

"I'm not here for Rapunzel," he quickly hissed; the roots of his hair were burning, it would be a miracle if he didn't have a bald patch after this. He couldn't reach for his whip, but maybe he could… "Give me the other girl and we'll leave."

"Nay." She turned his face from side to side, studying him from all angles. "I must know how she came to be in this, my most precious sanctuary. You, however…" She gave him a bitter smirk, and started prying his fingers from the balcony. _Why wasn't the rose vine growing?!_ "I must think of something suitable. Practical, though vindictive. Ah, yes-"

He could hear the sound of plants growing, something sharp scraping against the moss-stained tower far below him. If Irie could pick a time to step up and be _helpful_ \- but he saw her over Gothel's shoulder, cowering and staring wide-eyed, fearfully, tearfully at the scene. Frozen. He mouthed her name, a last bid for help since, for whatever reason, his usual tools didn't seem to be coming to his aid.

Gothel released him, and he fell eighty feet into a massive thicket of thorns.

" _Kurama!"_

Irie finally found the motivation to get to her feet, but before she could so much as step back out to the balcony, 'Gothel' was upon her. She felt like a child, again, with those eyes boring into her like they could see through her soul, and with something close to an understanding as if this woman _knew_ who she was. Who _both_ of them were.

"Tell me," the witch demanded, "How didst thee come to be in my tower?"

"I don't-" Irie's voice was nothing but a shaky, squeaky whisper as she tried to put as much distance between herself and Gothel. "I don't know, I swear, I didn't mean to."

"You little _liar_."

He could hear Irie's cry of terror from his bed of pain- er, thorns- but every inch of his body was throbbing like he'd been hit by a truck. Especially his… his hand touched his face and grasped the twig covered in spikes, gingerly pulling them from his eyes with a pained groan that he tried to stifle. A fresh gush of blood and vitreous spat out and drizzled down his cheeks, and he saw little point in trying to test his vision before dragging himself from the briars. It was simply _gone_.

If Yomi could see him now, he would surely be laughing at the irony.

And if she wasn't busy panicking high in the tower above him, Irie would have hit him for the "If Yomi could _see_ " pun.

Alas, she was preoccupied with fighting the overall shut-down that her body and mind were trying to perform; the definition of the condition kept scrolling through her brain as a compromise, to both remind her of why she _shouldn't_ give in to dissociation and to distract her from Gothel, her stressor. Those black eyes were inches from her face.

"Tell me," Gothel demanded yet again in a venomous whisper, "How and _why_ are you here?" On the rolling wave of her warm, spice-scented breath, "here" stopped meaning the tower. It meant the world.

" _I don't know_ ," Irie whimpered back. "Just let me _leave_."

 _You cannot leave. You may_ never _leave._

 _Useless girl._

"Useless girl." The words set Irie's heart rate into a gear so high that it might as well have been on par with a mouse. Gothel was sneering as she straightened up, and grabbed Irie by the scalp. "Fine. You're of no use to me. I'll allow you to rejoin your _beloved prince_." The last two words were mocking and followed by a nasty chuckle, and the sunlight felt more like a death sentence than a relief when she dragged Irie back to the balcony. But whatever mental trauma Gothel wanted to inflict upon Irie had been replaced by a need to make an example out of her for Rapunzel. Glaring pointedly at the princess, the witch bent Irie over the rail and darkly said, " _This_ is what comes of true love. Misery, and naught else."

She didn't want to see herself hurtling towards her death, so Irie screwed her eyes shut and screeched when she was shoved. The landing was awful and hard enough to knock the wind right from her lungs when she hit the ground on her side, and something had _absolutely_ been fractured, but… surprisingly it hadn't been as prickly as she'd anticipated? When she dared to look, she found that she was less than a hair's breadth away from the thorns, but had mercifully avoided them. Maybe they would have helped break her fall, but she couldn't imagine it would have been comfortable...

He certainly wasn't able to see her (even if he _hadn't_ been tenderly holding his hands to his face to try to assess the damage), but he'd still heard the impact, and she wasn't farther than a few feet. Neither was her bag, when it landed soon after. It was a small mercy that he didn't have to raise his voice too much to joke, "This universe has an interesting idea of making us fall for each other."

"That's not fucking- oh my God, _Kurama_." The grass rustled beneath her as she scrambled to his side, and a hand touched his fingers. "Why do I always find you covered in blood?"

"You're lucky, I guess," he grunted.

"I…" She gulped down the apology that wanted to burst out. "I'm surprised you survived the fall." But she wasn't, and her flat tone spoke that in volumes. Irie moved his hands from his face and was unprepared for just _how_ badly damaged his eyes were. The thorns had literally pierced into them, and he could only imagine how it must look; her cut-off scream gave him some idea.

"Can you heal them?" asked Kurama. He didn't know how long until, or even _if_ he could fix this himself.

"I don't think it'll work," she said softly. "I'm supposed to be a stand-in for Rapunzel, and she can't." Those fingers slid across the deep scratches on his cheeks, and he felt her tremble like the slight tremor in her voice.

He touched her hand and held it to his cheek to keep her from accidentally poking out what was left of his eye and ruining any chance they had of repairing them. "A stand-in? What's that supposed to mean?"

"It's… hard to explain. And I'm not even sure I understand it that well, or if my theory's correct." That small action was too intimate for her, and she pulled away, letting her fingers fidget with each other while she talked; keeping off the topic of his injuries calmed her in a small way. "You understand the basic law of the infinite-multiverse theory, right? There's a universe for every possibility? Some are a bit like… like video games, I think. You have to follow a certain script in order to trigger the portal opening, and the world decides your role when you step in- if there's a script to follow, physics will literally _shunt_ you into a playable part. Thus, I became Rapunzel, and you…" Her head bowed, and her voice quieted. "I just sat there. I'm sorry. I'm such a…"

"Don't do that," he put in immediately, reaching out to grope for her face- it took him two tries to hold the side of her head, the first having grabbed her by the nose. "Don't wallow in self-pity, it doesn't suit you. We're both alive, Irie, we'll figure out the rest. You were smart enough to learn how to lead me here, weren't you?"

She let out a small, huffy, bitter chuckle. "That was Blondie, up there," she muttered. "She said that that was how Prince Charming discovered her in the first place, so I assumed a love song would be our best bet."

"And you assumed correctly."

"Yeah, a fucking miracle from the girl who nearly got Koenma-" She broke off, and shook her head to make his hand separate again. "I'm sorry about what I said before, Kurama. I don't really want you to leave, I _like_ having you around. You talk to me like you care. I don't actually think you do, but you make me feel like you might sometimes. And _this_ is how I thank you, by watching while you get shoved off a fucking tower because I'm a coward."

Kurama didn't know whether to hug or chide her again; she was starting to tear up, and even sniffled to help keep it in. "You feel bad about my blindness," he asked, trying to tease her into not crying, "But not about yelling at me for the pen vault?"

"You ass," she giggled tearily. " _This_ wasn't your fault. Here, let me take another look at that, maybe I'll think of something…"

The pads of her fingers were wet with tears when they touched at the corners of his eyes again, turning his face ever so gently from side to side so she could properly inspect the damage in a way that he couldn't. "You could tell me why you hate my demon form so much to make it up to me," he suggested as she shifted, tilting his head up to see it in a different light, though he wasn't serious. It took her a moment to retort.

"Because Yoko Kurama reminds me of someone I lost," she muttered finally, "And I don't want to talk about him anymore."

"Someone you-?" Another hot tear hit his face, this time directly in his eye, and he frowned as best he could. "I appreciate your concern, but _watch it_."

"Sorry!"

But a second rolled off of her nose and landed in his other damaged lens, and this one burned far more than the first. Immediately, he started blinking, his eyelids wanting to rid him of the foreign substance on an instinct. And with each pass, he wondered if maybe he was just imagining her face, and the rest of his vision, becoming clearer. The way her brow furrowed told the rest of the story.

"Thank God I didn't have to kiss you," was all she could say while she watched his green irises knit back together over the gouging wound and come into focus on her own.

"Don't worry, I wouldn't have asked you to."

"You jerk."

But she was laughing, relieved, when she dove forward and hugged him tight; she didn't even recoil when he tentatively wrapped an arm around her waist, simply grateful that, like he'd said before, they'd figured it out. Entirely by accident, of course, but he wasn't going to argue with the methodology as long as the results were… actually, more than he'd hoped for. The most he'd expected was for Irie to return to her chilly, tense truce with him, and this surpassed it. How long would _that_ last? Maybe he was about to find out, as she pulled away a little and just studied his face. Something had softened in her eyes, and he couldn't put his finger on just what it was, but maybe it could have been the beginnings of some emotional realization?

"Kurama, I-" She cut herself off and gently pushed away, smiling at him a little more warmly than she usually would have. "... Thank you for coming for me." Somehow, he didn't think that that was what she'd wanted to tell him.

But he wasn't going to drag those words out of her, not if she didn't want to say them just yet; he didn't know if he wanted to hear them, anyhow.

"Any time."

She helped pull him to his feet, holding a hand to her aching ribs in a vain attempt to inspect the damage from the fall. Yes, every survival guide she'd ever read had suggested falling feet-first, but she often found that she did better with running for her life when she _didn't_ nearly shatter her ankles. Looking around through the trees surrounding them, she asked, "So, how far away were the others when you ditched them?"

"A _league_." Kurama shook his head over the arcane measuring system, following her gaze; the horse had darted into the treeline when he fell, and was shyly pawing at the ground just beyond. "They said they'd follow me, but you'd think they'd be here by now."

"On foot? You got here on a galloping _horse_ ," Irie pointed out, rolling her eyes and slowly walking towards the spooked steed, snatching up her bag on the way and jostling it onto her shoulders. "Shh, beautiful boy, it's all good…" The horse sensed her tension, however well she tried to hide it, but eventually let her take hold of the reins and pat it on the nose. "We'll be waiting here for a while, we might as well try to meet them in the middle. Then we can get the hell out of here."

He quirked a brow in her direction when she turned towards him for his opinion. "Do you _know_ how to ride a horse?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I've done it before. Once… several years ago. Shut up and get on the damn thing."

Watching her struggle to figure out how to haul herself into the saddle was amusing, and a little worrying; mostly, she was just succeeding in irritating the horse, too short to swing her leg over its back and too lacking in upper body strength to pull herself up to get a better grip. Finally, Kurama took pity on her.

"Stop, you're going to hurt the poor horse. Here-"

He attempted to dial down the awkwardness as low as he could as he climbed into the saddle and pulled her up so she could get situated behind him; he had to be in front to steer, and there was nothing for her to hold onto aside from him. Even then, she tried to keep some amount of space between them, and would only touch him with her fingertips.

"You're going to want a better hold than that."

"I'm good."

"... Alright." She'd find out the hard way, then.

A sharp squeal rang through the forest when Kurama squeezed the horse into a trot and Irie came very close to sliding off. As expected, she immediately threw her arms around his middle and held on for dear life, even going so far as to press her face into his back to try to swallow down the fact that her heart had leaped into her throat. His small smirk, thankfully unseen by her, was because he was smug over being right and not because he was enjoying her terror. Honestly.

They ultimately found the others trying to cross the river, and a slightly dazed Irie was extremely relieved that Kurama decided against jumping it; particularly since Yusuke was already squinting suspiciously at the way they were sitting, and she didn't want to give him any more ammunition for future jokes.

"Can you get down?" he asked in a low murmur over his shoulder, just as the gang splashed out of the water and onto dry land.

"Yes. Without falling flat on my face, though, is another story."

The question should have been could she do it without hurting anything, and the answer was no. Realizing that she didn't have any free stirrups to use as an anchor for her foot, she chose to cling to Kurama hard enough to practically squish his kidneys and use him to keep steady while she swung over her other leg. Upon his release, she dropped a little more gracefully from the side of Mitarai's noble steed, and allowed her partner to dismount, as well; his hand went to her shoulder for leverage, and she bumped against him when her knee wobbled beneath her.

Apparently, that was the magical password, because space ripped open a few feet away and stretched out into a wide, gaping portal home.

Irie was the first to recover from the shock that had overcome everyone, particularly Mitarai who had zero idea what was happening. While they pulled themselves together (and started a rushed explanation of what the thing was to the Prince), she simply reconfigured herself into some sort of confident, _Absolutely nothing happened_ pose with her hands on her hips.

"It's about time you all found us," she declared, scowling ironically at them. "Do you have _any_ idea how long I was stuck in that tower?"

"Not long enough to get you to be nice," Yusuke snickered once he came around, clapping her on the shoulder. "Maybe we should throw you back in there for time out."

Irie's smile was honey-sweet and daring him to even try. "Or you can go fuck yourself and I'll find my way home without you."

"Aw, you would _never_."

As they exchanged their banter, Kurama was handing over the reins of the horse to Mitarai, who seemed happy that the three of them had returned in one piece. "Is the ladye thy princess?" he asked kindly, glancing at Irie while Kuwabara hovered over her to tell her excitedly about how _they knew that guy!_ She seemed far from surprised.

"No," Kurama promptly replied. "I mean, _yes_ , she's the girl we were searching for, but she's not a princess. Or mine."

Mitarai looked like he didn't believe it, and sidled up to Irie so he could bow and kiss the back of her hand. "'Tis good to meet thee, kind ladye," he greeted, straightening back up. "Tell me, didst thee see a fair-haired princess named Rapunzel?"

"Are you the Prince she's always talking about?" Her eyes seemed wary, guarded, like she needed to make sure.

"Verily."

"Then yep. And I'd _book it_ to that tower, Gothel returned and she's _pissed_."

That did the trick, and Mitarai's eyes went wide and urgent. "Then I must leave at once!" he cried, leaping onto the back of his (aggravated-looking) horse. "Fare thee well, travelers! Gods willing, our paths shall cross again under better tidings!"

"Gods willing," Irie muttered under her breath as he kicked his steed into a full-gallop, "I'll never see you again in my _life_."

Kuwabara pointed at the portal, demanding an answer from Irie with his expression. "How."

"Your guess is as good as mine," she sighed heavily, "Though I'd rather just go than ask questions.

"Agreed." Kurama was just… adventured out. For the rest of his _life_ , and apparently he looked it because Yusuke was still eyeballing him.

"You done already?" he asked dryly, smirking.

"You haven't had the day we've had," Irie snapped.

"Take a nap when we get back, pipsqueak."

" _Hey._ "

"You two can bicker all you like when we return," Kurama stepped in, putting an arm around Irie's shoulders so that he could pull her off to the side for a moment. "I need you to stay serious for one more second, alright?"

"Don't talk to me like you're my father," she scoffed, but his stern look quieted her. Had they been in this exact scenario before?

"Irie. When I go through that portal, you come _directly after me_ , got it?" His eyes were so serious, so adamant, that she actually believed he was worried. "The second I'm in, your foot goes in."

"Kurama, I'm not going to get separated from you going back home-"

"Please, just do this for me."

She sighed and thought about her answer before she gave it. Not that she had more than one, but she wanted to argue with him about what she considered his misguided concern. "... Fine. Right after."

He visibly relaxed and withdrew his hands from her arms. "Thank you."

"Now can we go before the darn thing closes?" Kuwabara asked, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at the portal while he gave Kurama and Irie a hard look.

"Please."

Yusuke was the first to hop in, smoothly vanishing inside; it really wasn't any different from walking through a door, or a really large window. Next to follow was Kurama, who dragged Irie over behind him so that she could have a clear way in, and even when he grabbed the sides of the portal, he paused to look back. She was scowling off to the side, then lifted her gaze to him and made a gesture as if to say _After you._ His red hair vanished last, and it was only Kuwabara and Irie, both of whom had looked back at the same time.

They were left staring after the spot where Mitarai had disappeared into the forest, and both looked concerned. "I hope he's tough enough to go head-to-head with the witch," Kuwabara muttered, not knowing that Irie's unsettlement was for a different reason.

Filled with her own thoughts, she whispered, "He's going to have to be." Touching Kuwabara's shoulder, she gently tugged him towards the portal and added, "Remember: that's not your friend. The guy you know is back in our world and probably fine, and there's little that you can do to help Prince Charming. Think of it this way: if Kurama and I managed to survive an encounter with Gothel, then they will, too."

He wasn't sure if that was comforting, but it helped to pretend that it was. Irie stepped aside to let him go through first, and (certainly unwisely) lingered for a moment, staring out into the forest once she was sure that she was the only one left on this side. Gothel, Gothel, _Gothel_. Another name to add to the short list, and it was already too long with only two others. She should tell Kurama, he deserved to know about it. He'd earned that, hadn't he? Before she could make up her mind, a chilling wind rattled the tree branches like a low, whispered, menacing moan that stirred her long hair about her shoulders and sent a shiver through her limbs. Without another thought, she turned tail and jumped inside the blinding whiteness.

She emerged on the other side to find Kurama standing directly in front of the television and looking irritable. "I thought I said _directly_ after?" he scolded, watching her pick herself up and shake out the portal-lag, as she called it.

"I came out, didn't I?" she retorted with an eyeroll, crouching down to fish out a vial of pink liquid.

"Hey, after the last time we went through that thing together, I'm allowed to be concerned if we get separated."

"Our world wouldn't separate us. Even if it did, I'd be in the mansion and _you'd_ be the one teleported off to who knows where." But she knew that he was also thinking about the other universe, the one with Evil Yukina, and she grudgingly admitted to herself that he was, indeed, allowed. It could have been the calming effects of her "medication," though, taken not because she really needed it, this time around, but because it was a comforting habit.

But it got a little annoying when it carried over into what she considered something normal in her day-to-day life: while she unpacked her go-bag in the closet beneath the stairs, he insisted on doing the same with his own. At the same time. Next to her. She wanted water to wash down the awful taste of Anti-Portal Lag, and he followed.

"Kurama?" Her voice was a warning, accompanied by a lofted eyebrow.

"What?"

"Don't play-"

"You've returned!" Botan came swooping down the stairs into the kitchen with a broad smile on her face, and immediately tackled Irie in a tight hug. "Oh, and you two aren't _fighting_ any longer, how wonderful!"

"... Hi, Botan," Irie choked out from beneath her arms. "Nice to see you, too."

"Where did you all _go?_ " she asked, turning her attention and hugs to Kurama. "We got here yesterday and it was just Kaito!"

"Long story," he replied, wincing a little and giving Irie a sympathetic smile. Those hugs were _tight._

"You'll have to tell me all about it, I insist!" Her face was bright and happily relieved, and she was already ushering Irie away into the living room. "But first, Irie, we have some new guests, and I just _know_ you're going to love them."

" _Excuse me?_ " Kurama followed after them when he saw the rage start to build on the girl's face. "Why wasn't I informed beforehand? This wasn't in the contract, I _demand_ -"

"Well, _you're_ still as loud as ever."

There was a loud gasp, then an uncharacteristically delighted, excited, "Hey!" as Irie strode into four very colorful figures who were hanging around her bar, chatting it up with Yusuke and Kuwabara and lamenting the fact that the alcohol was locked up; they'd obviously come down while Kurama and Irie were in the kitchen and distracted by Boton. Big, blue-haired Chu rapped on the glass of her liquor case and frowned.

"Listen, little lady," he grunted, chewing on a toothpick between his lips, "Deny a man the right to a smoke all you like, but don't go keepin' him away from the hard booze."

She laughed and gave him a saucy expression that Kurama had never _dreamed_ to see on her face before. "Aw, did the big, scary demon get zapped by tiny Irie's flamethrower?"

"No," replied Touya, always with that serene, chilly smile on his face, "The wall did. I put it out, but…" But there was still a scorch mark.

"Ah, that'll come out." Jin was floating around as he was wont to do, grinning from (non-pointy) ear to ear at everything and nothing, and bumped his fist against hers. "It's been a while, eh?"

Rinku was towered over by everyone and still acted like he was six feet tall. "Six, seven years? That's like an eyeblink, please."

"Not for me," Irie sighed, putting her hands on her hips. "Though I suppose it helps that I've at least grown an inch."

His giant brown eyes flicked down her body once, and then back to her face. "Looks like a few more than that to me."

"You little-"

"Rinku, be nice to the girl who's letting us stay here," Touya chided, seeing the way she narrowed her eyes. Not that she'd ever be able to take any of them on, even one-on-one, but he still didn't want her to feel like she should try.

When Yusuke and Kuwabara walked in, everyone (Kurama included) talked, caught up; from what Kurama could gather, Irie had met the lot of them once, maybe twice before, back when she was a teenager and still friends with Toriaka and Nanami, and they'd managed to get along alright enough. Of course, she was just human, and those two times had only been coincidental, mediated through the half-demon friends. She listened with rapt attention and a wide, actual, interested smile as they went through the first tournament for control over Makai, and then about the ones that followed, and she was happily quiet the entire time, just enjoying the energy that this small crowd was giving off. It was nice. She caught Kurama's eye and her smile widened. For once, she was actually happy. Content, even.

And that made him happy enough.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** "It won't take as long as this one," she said. "I'll have it out in _no time_!" she said. And she lied, I'm so, _so_ sorry. I have my reasons, but I don't feel like they're excuses, really. Also, I'm sorry if this particular chapter's a little... off. I really just wanted to get it out for you guys. And we have a _lot_ of new characters popping up, now! Don't worry, I did the cursory spell-check! :D I can do things correctly...

Thank you to my reviewers from last chapter, **Owlloveyou** , **CassieL** , **gloss my eyes** , and **Emzybubble** , as well as to all of my loyal readers. Again, I'm going to try really hard to get back into regular posting.

Until next time!

Lots of love, GrisailleDreams


	9. Strange Magic

_You're sailing softly through the sun_

 _In a broken stone-age dawn_

 _You fly so high._

* * *

Irie and alcohol proved to be an interesting mix, and Kurama entirely understood why she kept it locked up; it wasn't to keep others from stealing it, it was to keep her from drinking. Everyone was crowded around the fireplace in the parlour, the drinks were non-stop, and she was perched on the back of the couch, nestled between Jin and Yusuke, singing.

" _And the winds would cry! And many men would die! And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley~"_

Seven cocktails in, and she was hammered.

The silver lining in Kurama's eyes was that she was a happy drunk and seemed to be having fun before the inevitable hangover sat in. He'd never known the mansion to be this loud, before, but he wondered if maybe it used to be, back before Irie found herself alone. Cheerfulness quelled the unsettling feeling that Irie always claimed emanated from the television portal, one that Kurama had started to feel, too, as of late. Perhaps a side effect.

The song died away and was met with intoxicated cheers and a short smattering of applause, and Irie would have fallen backwards off the couch from laughing if Yusuke hadn't grabbed her by the arm to keep her upright.

"Thank you~" she purred, "I'll be here all decade. Tip your landlady."

"Listen, girl," Chu slurred from his chair, pointing a large, scarred finger at her, "Y' call that a drinkin' song? We have far better ones on my side of the dimension."

"I'm sure you do," Irie shot back with a grin and an uncharacteristic wiggle of her eyebrow, "I'm out of practice- please, share with us, O Great Bard of Demons."

As Chu struck up some raucous and even lewd strain that Kurama could recall from various parts of the Makai, the redhead decided that he didn't want to hear the rest; they were exhausting, all of them, and quite frankly, he was bored. Drinking had never been a pastime he'd enjoyed, and he took no pleasure in watching his friends act like idiots in the process, so he instead rose from his seat and slipped quietly, unnoticed, into the kitchen.

Or, so he thought he hadn't been seen. Irie extracted herself from her seat and trotted after him, flinging herself into a barstool to watch him with a blurred but sparkling gaze while he filled a glass with ice.

"I'm sorry, did my singing scare you away?" she giggled, clutching her own cup a little tighter on the counter. "I know, I can't carry a tune to save my life."

"It wasn't that," Kurama replied without so much as a glance her way; the ice cracked and popped as water filled the spaces between. "I find drunk people to be rather tedious."

"Ouch, buddy," she cackled in her seat, giving the back of his head a googly-eyed, too-innocent stare. "Then I'm sorry you find me so _tedious_."

"Honestly?" He chuckled a little and turned to her for just a moment. "You could stand to be a little _less_ exciting."

"... is that a compliment, or-?"

She was inebriated and had her guard down, and he wondered. So, he caught her chin in his fingers to hold her face steady, gazes locked, and he smiled warmly.

"No." Irie, blushing from something other than the liquor in her system, was about to protest, but he cut her off and continued, "But that doesn't mean I don't like you when you're caught up in something adventurous."

A head-tilt nudged her chin out of his grasp, and her eyes narrowed up at him, the most focused they'd been since she'd started her binge. "Are you flirting with me, fox-boy?"

"Oh, abso _lutely_ not."

She took another sip of whatever concoction it was that she'd mixed up for herself, and rolled her eyes. "Sure, okay."

Given the chance, Kurama would have fired back a perfectly reasonable explanation as to why he hadn't been, but at that moment, the others decided to file out from the parlour and through the kitchen door that led to the garden. Yusuke was chanting something about " _Fire!_ " and as Touya and Rinku passed at the end of the train, the latter could be clearly heard muttering, "Should we really be trusting his drunken ass with a lighter?"

"I'll make sure it doesn't go too out of control," Touya murmured back before slipping out the door.

Before he could follow, Rinku caught the way that Kurama and Irie had been looking at each other, then smirked cheekily at them. "Having fun?"

"Oh, _tons_ , y'little shit~" Irie shot back, snatching his hat to roughly ruffle his hair and then replace it.

"You are _so_ much more fun when you're wasted," he chimed in, readjusting the hat with a huff. "

"Ohhh…" she breathed, right before taking a big gulp from her cup. "Then you'd _love_ me when I'm trying to talk the quantum physics of the television- I'm a fucking riot!"

"Actually, I think I'd like to hear you try that," Kurama said with a small laugh, leaning against the counter. "You should tell us about your infinite universe theory." He gave her his most disarming smile, to make her as pliable as he could. And it worked.

"Okay, okayokay," she giggled, clearing her throat and trying to collect herself in order to start her lecture. But she had to pause so she could get another laugh out. "So you've got the Omniverse, right, which is like… like a really big cardboard box, and it's got a bunch of little tiny boxes inside it, and _those_ boxes have a universe inside of them. And, it's like… literally an infininin… infinine… infininininini-"

"Infinite?" Kurama offered, the crease between his brows deepening.

" _No_."

"Did you mean 'yes?'"

"... _Yes_."

"Infinite amount of universes inside the Omniverse?"

"No, infinite amount of _boxes_ inside the _big_ box," she scolded, leaning over to gently swat at his shoulder (and miss in the process), "Kurama, keep up."

"Yeah, Kurama," Rinku snickered. He was enjoying watching this too much. "Keep up."

"Anyway, so the little boxes are all interconnected with one another, that's how we're able to jump into new worlds for a little while. We call this web the Multiverse. And the big box is kind of like King Box: all the little boxes have their own rules, but King Box sort of mediates how those rules are followed. If one box tries to break the rule, then we need another little box. So you make a decision in one world, right, and that makes a branch that makes a whole _other_ universe. Same thing when it comes to laws of time and space and that kinda thing."

"I think even if you were sober," Rinku sighed, clearly finding this discussion less entertaining than he'd hoped, "I'd have a hard time making sense of it. Or believing it, for that matter."

She snorted, and a thin stream of vodka-laced soda spilled over the edge of her glass. "Dude, catch me on the right day and I don't even think _clouds_ are real."

Kurama frowned and shook his head. " _What_?"

"Clouds. Not real. They're… they're like…" She pointed up at the ceiling as if to stare at the sky, and she moved her fingers like a brush. "Like they're _painted on the sky_ , or something. I can't process them cognitively. Never have been able to. Fog? Eh. Sorta, that's kinda close, but clouds? _Fuck_ no."

"Wait, really?" Jin had heard her from outside, and was standing in the doorway, perfectly framed by dark wood and a background of the fire that they had started just outside. "You ever been up close to one?"

"No, Jin," she replied dryly with an amused snort and a half-hearted point, "Not all of us have the power to _fly_ , you know."

"I can fix that!" His smile was wide and brilliant as he lunged forward and snatched her up by the wrist, dragging her outside and blowing by the group of men and Botan who were clustering around the bonfire.

"Buttons," she warned, as the dog had joined the group near the flames and had lifted his head as he sensed his human in some kind of trouble, " _Stay_." Somehow, she managed to sound steady when she was giving the dog commands.

She looked confused, worried, but also a little curious that Jin was putting his hands on her waist, and that outweighed the desire she felt to wriggle away from his grasp. The alcohol was still working its way through her system; caution could be briefly thrown to the wind, in her mind. Wasn't she safe, here, and among people that Kurama trusted?

"Hold on, lass," he whispered, and he threw his head back to laugh at her shriek of terrorized surprise when he rocketed them both up into the air.

She'd been clutching his arms to start out with, but had flung herself around his middle when her feet suddenly left the ground. _Nope_. More than her curiosity about clouds, she hated heights, and both fear and sudden cold sobered her up faster than she would have liked. The wind buffeted against them harder than it should have, egged on by the demon who controlled it, and she was violently reminded of scaling Yukina's tower and nearly falling to her death. And Jin had the nerve to hold her out at arm's length.

"You're missin' the best part if you're hidin' from it," he pointed out; in one fluid motion, he spun her around so that her back was against his chest, and she could have a full, clear view of the sky through which they flew, and it was enrapturing enough to drive away her fear.

Dark, cool, and watery, she reached out a hand and felt like she was touching silk instead of a new layer of the atmosphere; he was doing something, she knew, to keep the oxygen thicker so that she could breathe easily from so high up. The glittering, diamond-like stars seemed no closer than they had been from the ground, but the moon seemed brighter, reflecting from the massive, thick banks of mist that rolled by-

"Do you want to touch one?" he asked, following her gaze to the cloud.

Irie's reply was immediate. "Yes."

He gently drew her closer, letting his fingers glide over the length of her arm until her hand was cradled in his own, and he murmured, "Not too long, yeah? Wouldn't want you to freeze it off."

As she could have expected, it was just like touching fog: it wasn't even there, but for an ice-cold spatter of water droplets that collected on her skin as if she'd walked through the cast-off mist of a garden sprinkler. And those few seconds were all that he'd allow her, as Jin immediately pulled her back. But that was plenty. Just getting to see it, the entire body from so close, was enough to bring it into the foreground of the painting she called the sky. The larger ones above them, meters into the air, were still flat and dimensionless, but they didn't seem to matter nearly so much to her. A shred of reality had been planted into her mind, something that she could anchor on to when she felt herself slipping away while she stared upwards, and it was thanks to a demon. One of Toriaka's friends, at that. Both gazes locked together as Jin started to lower them both softly to the ground, anything to make the moment last.

Their feet touched the ground, but her head was clearly still in the clouds and her eyes were full of stars, glued to Jin's face like she'd never seen him before. Kurama didn't like it, and he didn't like the way their faces were _slowly inching closer toward each other-!_

But Irie had turned her face just enough to see Kurama, and she grinned, trotting his way. "Dude, you have to _try_ that!" she laughed, "Holy crap, that was the coolest thing _ever_."

"I'll pass for now," he deflected, rearranging any open distaste he had into a smile. "But I'm glad you enjoyed yourself."

"For real." Her eyes were bright beneath the bangs that she shoved out of her face with both hands. "That was…" The sentence trailed off into another chuckle, and he realized that he'd never seen her this exhilarated, or this happy.

"Yeah, it's a real joy," Yusuke said from his place at the bonfire, "When you're not being blasted with tiny tornados. So, now that you two are back on the ground, mind if we figure out sleeping arrangements? Because we seem to have doubled in number."

"Oh…" she replied with a wince, as if suddenly realizing that herself, "Right. Uh…"

It took a little finagling, and some concessions on her part, but the lot of them finally managed to figure it out: Kuwabara and Yusuke kept their spots on the third floor, Chu and Rinku would take where Kaito had been until now, and Jin and Touya would bunk in Kurama's room. The two displaced men would be "honored" with spots on the second floor, near Irie and Botan.

One spare bedroom, and they'd decided that Kaito would take it, had already been opened so that Botan could get to the bedroom on the other side of it, but Irie had to unlock another for Kurama. "This one used to be Mitsu's," she explained, distracted and trying to open the secret vault door set into the wall behind the portrait of the blonde girl; Kurama held the painting up and out of the way for her. "It _should_ be the safest to go into, after Ayame's. I mean, it's probably going to smell like catnip, but at least we got rid of the panther problem."

He _almost_ asked, but then stopped himself.

When they finally got into it, he could see that it was far more comfortable than the rooms upstairs, and more nicely furnished, everything in gentle shades of orange or green. One of the longer walls had been covered in mirrors with a dance bar set into them, the floor space cleared and wooden for practice. As Irie had warned, it did, indeed, smell faintly like catnip, but it wasn't overpowering. Just a little stale. Unfortunately, there was no window for him to open, so he resolved to cover the problem with plants of his own.

"Think you'll be comfortable in here?" she asked, having been staring even harder at the empty room. Her eyes were brimming with memories.

He studied her for a moment. "I'll be fine, I'm sure."

A hand caught his lower arm and squeezed for a heartbeat. "Have a good night, then."

Later, when the rest of the mansion had gone silent with the rest of the outside world, he found himself awake and staring at the ceiling, unable to fall asleep. To wear himself out mentally, he started ticking through all of the information he knew so far about the portal, and tried to piece together how exactly they could enter the Makai. What had gone wrong, and how could it be fixed? Irie's drunken grin explaining how the Omniverse worked. Maybe there was something stashed away in the attic that could help them, something that gave a more detailed account of how the television worked. Irie's lips on Jin's. Did the pen that was locked away in that gun vault have anything to do with the portal? After all, it _was_ supposed to be "dangerous."

Her lips on Kurama's.

He heard a door close upstairs, but no footsteps that followed. That in itself wasn't too out of the ordinary, but then he heard another door open just down the hall. Irie's. There was a soft laugh that cut itself off too quickly, and the door shut again.

He forced his eyes to close, and willed himself to sleep.

The kitchen was full of song when Kurama came down in the morning, and was shocked to find that Irie, for once in her life, had awoken earlier than he had. Not only that, but she seemed _over the moon_ , smiling brightly enough to practically obscure the tattoo underneath her cheek and cooking what looked like enough to feed an army; maybe she'd anticipated just how much a pack of demons would eat.

" _Oh I'm never gonna be the same again~ Now I've seen the way it's got to end…_ "

"We're adding Electric Light Orchestra to your repertoire?" he asked cautiously, slipping onto one of the bar stools. "How talented. Remind me to ask for an autograph."

"Shut up," Irie laughed, without looking back at him. "What do you want for breakfast? I've got literally everything going, I don't remember what your new recruits prefer. As long as it's not people."

"Don't worry about me, I'll find something."

"Suit yourself."

Every movement was wider and less controlled, and none of it bothered her. She even dropped a bit of bacon onto the ground at the paws of an awaiting Duchess, who very adamantly was never fed table scraps; Irie had snapped as much at Kuwabara the one time he'd tried it.

"Kurama? Do me a favor and feed the peacocks, please?"

"Sure."

The chicks were looking less like small balls of fluffy feather and more like gangly-looking peacocks, though they were still lacking in their adult coloring. Tank, the smallest of the brood, had an odd habit of trying to display his non-existent tail feathers whenever either Kurama or Irie came out to scatter their feed, and that morning was no exception. Though, he let Kurama stroke the top of his head with his forefinger, and that was a little unusual; he wasn't going to complain, though. He found that his grievances were best saved for when he walked back into the kitchen and saw Jin's hand slide over Irie's back as he passed between her and the island counter on his way to a mountain of toast. Her head turned to follow him, and she smiled secretively when he caught her eye, then looked away when they both started laughing, as if sharing some private joke.

Kurama wasn't the only one to realize what had happened, either; Yusuke's eyebrow asked Jin for the story, and the silent exchange of looks said the rest, all of it with Irie blissfully unaware that there was a conversation going around her and _about_ her without her knowledge. She wasn't the only one left out of the loop for long, though, as the rest of her residents started to pile into her kitchen-

"No, guys, haul your asses into the dining room, this table only seats six."

Once everyone had a satisfactory start in on their breakfast, the topic of discussion they were all waiting for got under way: planning the next excursion into the portal. Picking out another set of coordinates was easy enough, and Kaito could do that in his sleep, but there was also the matter of picking out the team scheduled to go inside.

"All I'm saying," Yusuke argued, albeit calmly, "Is that we're gonna have a bunch of inexperienced people jumping in this time around- guys, shut up, I know you can handle yourselves in a fight, but this is different. Endo, seriously, we could really use you again."

"And I told you _no_ ," she insisted, tapping her nails impatiently against the edge of her plate while she stared him down from the opposite end of the table- it sat twelve, so it was quite a stretch down. "Not after the last two times you've all dragged me in. I either slow the group down or get someone injured. Scratch that, I always slow the group down _and_ get someone injured. Kurama's my case in point."

"Not to mention _you_ nearly died," Kurama reminded her, idly sipping on a water glass.

"Precisely." Turning back to Yusuke, Irie continued, "You've gone in enough times, you'll be fine with one more without me. It's not like you couldn't handle things when I wasn't there before."

"You know _way_ more about this… web of portals than we do," he pointed out, jabbing his chopsticks in her direction.

"The _Multiverse_ ," she corrected, glaring at the chopsticks.

"Whatever. You know what kinds of dangers we can expect, and while I normally don't think being prepared is a necessity, it'll definitely help us out, here."

"Look," she said sharply, giving each person at the table a hard stare as if they were each individually involved in an argument with her, "There's _nothing_ in my contract with Koenma that says I have to go with you guys. I just have to give you access, and you have it. I'm _just_ got back from getting tossed out of a three-story tower, I'm done with that thing for the foreseeable future."

"It's alright, Irie," Boton soothed, reaching over to pat the girl on the shoulder, "No one's going to force you. You're right." Both women gave Yusuke a final stern glare, as if to say, _We know best, now stuff it._

"Thank you," Irie replied sweetly, giving her companion a smile before standing up at her seat. "All this talk of going in again is exhausting. I'm grabbing coffee," she announced, and once she'd left, Yusuke started in on Jin with the questions.

"You're tapping that?" he whispered, knowing full well that Irie would guess at what they were discussing.

The shit-eating grin on Jin's face was infuriating. "Oh, yeah."

"Damn," Yusuke said with a whistle and a small, surprised laugh, "Jin's got a girlfriend _and_ it's Irie the Insanity Queen. Who'd've thought?"

"Pfft, nah, man," Jin insisted, pulling a face and leaning his chair back on two legs, "That girl's so high maintenance, I'm surprised anyone can stand her. We're just havin' a bit o' fun."

It was hard to come up with a better, stronger word for "infuriating," but Kurama managed to list out _enraging_ , _incensing_ , and _dumbass_ in his mind. The last one had creeped in with Irie's voice.

Of course, being the good mutual friend that Yusuke was, he had to add in, "Don't go stringing her along, though, okay? We've already had issues with tension thick enough to cut with a knife, we don't need relationship drama in the mix."

"You _really_ don't have to worry about that, mate."

Thankfully, the conversation moved off of Irie (after a bit of Chu pressing for details that no one needed to hear about), and Kurama was able to excuse himself- he didn't even have a reason to offer them, he just got up and left with only one destination in mind. The _second_ they were alone in the kitchen, Kurama busied himself beside her- making tea was his excuse. "Irie… about Jin-?"

" _What_?"

She sounded exasperated, but she was smiling at him while the coffee she stirred turned a creamy shade of caramel; dare he think it, teasing? Seeing her so happy should have been warming, he knew, but it _wasn't_ , and it just made him more frustrated with… with everything.

"You _do_ know he's a demon?"

"Most of you are," she pointed out with a small but puzzled laugh.

He chose to ignore that. "Are you sure about him?"

"Good lord, calm down. It's just a…" Her brow knitted in his direction, and the grin widened. "You're not _jealous_ , are you?"

" _No_. Absolutely not. I just…"

 _Want to put you in a giant hamster ball so you can stop getting into trouble._

"That's it. You're jealous."

"I'm not." And if he kept repeating that, then maybe... "But Jin can be fickle when it comes to women, and I can't have you spiralling off into a depressive episode once he ultimately ends it. That wouldn't help the mission."

"Right," she said, and didn't believe a word of it. "The mission. Because that's all you care about. But, hey." The grip of her hand on his upper arm was tight and demanding, a direct contrast to the softness of her expression. "In all seriousness, I really need you to be happy for me right now, okay? It's fine. I've had my heart broken by _gods_ , for God's sake. I can handle whatever emotional trauma you seem to think is going to come out of having fun for however long."

First the clouds, now this? "Gods?" he asked flatly.

"Gods," she repeated. "Well, one, anyway. And he was… nevermind. Don't worry about it. It doesn't matter, anymore."

"If an old boyfriend's the reason why you're sleeping with-"

"You _really_ want to go there with me?" She raised an eyebrow, and as she spoke, Irie drew out that machete of hers from beneath the counter- how many hiding places did she _have_ for that?- and casually inspected the blade. "I'd have thought slut-shaming beneath you."

He shouldn't have brought it up, he should have left it alone, he should have let her screw the entire damn mansion without a word. "Do you just take that thing in every room you enter and hide it somewhere?"

"Pretty much."

The conversation was over, at that point, and she said as much by the way she suddenly took up her coffee and waltzed out of the room without another word, her little spaniel happily padding after her. He wasn't done, he'd had more to say, but she shared his need to have the last word, and this time around, she'd won that.

And she'd made him feel like an ass.

He wouldn't be able to shake that for the rest of the day; even the impending "meeting" with Koenma wasn't enough to snap him out of it. Kurama was alone in the room with the communicator and, while pretending to be going over his notes, was scratching thick, deep lines of pen ink straight through his papers and into the wood of the desk while Koenma chattered for a little while. His conversation with Irie was still playing back in his memory, and he kept going between the information she'd given him and what he could have said differently to convince her to _stop_. It was pointless trying to bring it up with Jin- he didn't care, and he'd wonder why Kurama did. The whole thing was just a perk of working for Koenma, to Jin.

"Are you even listening?"

His eyes flicked upwards. "Yes." He certainly hadn't meant to sound _that_ insolent.

"Kurama, I'm not kidding," the toddler prince said from the other end of the compact, "I need things to speed up on this project. I understand that there's a certain amount of danger involved, but-"

"But she's just a human girl and I don't think she needs to get caught up in this any more than she already has," Kurama cut in sternly. "The portal isn't what you think it is, either. I don't think it's ever going to truly lead us to the Makai. What you want isn't possible. I know it isn't part of our world, but the Makai is part of our universe, and that portal goes beyond that kind of connection."

"You don't understand," Koenma huffed, "And you don't need to. I get it, she's starting to grow on you."

" _No_."

"I don't care. Irie Endo and her mansion go far beyond a nice, cozy place to use to travel to the land of demons, but that's my business."

"Then what are we doing this for?" was the ice-cold question. "What _possible_ reason can you give me as to why we've apparently been wasting our time and risking our lives?"

Tapping irritably on the arm of his chair, Koenma offered, "You've been passing me very valuable information about how the portal works, but if Irie knew that, she never would have let us inside. She can run a waystation, but thinking that I want to know more about her situation? That would be too much."

Gods, there it was again: cryptic warnings about Irie's past connections with Koenma, about something too dark to let Kurama in on. "Is _anyone_ going to tell me-?"

"There was an issue," Koenma immediately said, before Kurama could get any more out, "And while we took care of it, I want to make sure that her mansion is secure from future demonic threats. _That's_ why I need to know if that blasted machine of hers can take us directly to the Makai, or if…"

"Or if a demon can use it to cross over to our world," Kurama finished with a sigh, closing his eyes. "You could have just told me."

"The bunch of you wouldn't have been _nearly_ as thorough."

That was true. Yusuke would've just considered it a security detail and lazed about the mansion, claiming that there wasn't any reason to jump into action until a demon actually showed itself. And this way, Kurama and the others could pass any information they thought may or may not have been relevant, any little scrap they came across. Like the alien. He'd mentioned Jelly Bun in his last few reports, ever since Irie had told him of the creature's origins, and now he was starting to wonder if it had been such a good idea.

This was exactly why Koenma hadn't wanted to tell him the whole story.

"And what about Irie?" he asked, now all but glaring at the screen. "I don't want her getting caught up in any of your Spirit World politics."

"She understands the risks, Kurama," Koenma insisted, as if it were obvious and not nearly as important as his underling was making it out to be, "Besides, you have to know that she's far safer with you all there instead of alone with nothing but a dog and an admittedly impressive security system to protect her. Anyway, if her portal _does_ prove to be a threat, we'll just have it removed and destroyed."

Her words echoed in his ears. _Woe to the idiot who tries to remove the portal._ "I don't think-"

" _Kurama_. I'm sorry, but on this mission, I'm not asking you to think. If anything happens to Irie, honestly, we're not going to be held responsible, so stop worrying."

"So you don't care about her safety because she's not technically a _liability_?"

"Quite frankly? Certain people in Spirit World would feel a little better if something _did_ happen to her. At least at that point, the ticking timebomb of artifacts that she's sitting on could fall under our control. That's not to say-"

"My report's complete," Kurama said sharply, and while Koenma started blustering in his usual way about rudeness and being their boss, Kurama simply shut off the communicator and decided that the prince was going to have to start getting _all_ of his information from other sources.

Who were those people in Spirit World, and _why_ would they feel that way? What happened? What did she do, and was it really that serious? Or was it really as simple as getting their hands on her collection? Now he knew why Koenma and Irie had acted as if they'd never met before when they had their initial meeting; it was to protect their respective asses, a careful dance they were in together while Kurama and the others blindly tried to play along. She was _always_ just trying to survive the aftermath the mansion and her teenage years had brought her. As for Koenma? Kurama didn't know how far he could trust his awful explanation.

Why did that girl have to be so complicated, and why did Kurama have to care?

He spent the next several days avoiding her for more reasons than just her newfound "friendship" with Jin, and when they were in the same room, he couldn't help but watch her for something that might tell him what he wanted to know, but a besotted, lust-stricken Irie proved to be a far less helpful source of information than the usual capricious girl, whose emotional triggers could be tracked and studied, and he backed off for the time being. _Be happy for me_. Well, he could try, whatever that meant for him. But he _did_ resolve to keep his eye on her- and to keep her out of any more of Koenma's plot, whatever the hell that was.

* * *

Duchess had brought Irie the mail one morning, two weeks after her little discussion with Kurama- or, more likely, Buttons had dropped it off for her at the door. The spaniel was far too delicate and ladylike to manage that long-ass walk to the mailbox at the other end of the driveway. Among the usual advertisements and offers for credit cards, there was one thing in particular that caught Irie's eye, and she pulled it out to give it a closer look while the rest of the mail hit the trash.

It was lurid and trimmed in lace and pink ribbon and was the _girliest_ thing that Irie had set eyes on in a long time that wasn't currently hanging up in her closet, but it was definitely an invitation style that she recognized. Hana, the name signed as the sender, taught her how to make such cards early on in their friendship; it was, in fact, how they bonded in the first place. _We haven't heard from you in ages, Irii-chan~ Come to our tea party!_

"What's that?" Yusuke asked over her shoulder.

She sighed and then set the card face-down on the kitchen counter. "A call to return to the World of Cuteness," Irie replied, right before she tried (and failed) to swipe it away from Yusuke as he picked it up.

He snickered, " _Irii-chan_? That's so disgustingly adorable."

"Give it _back_ , you-"

"You should go." The invitation tapped the top of her head, and his smile wasn't nearly as teasing as she thought it would have been. "I'm serious. I'm glad you've been having fun with the new guys, but… you were right about what you said at dinner. You deserve to get away for a bit and not have to deal with our antics."

Her eyes narrowed, and she slowly took the invitation back. "That's awfully thoughtful of you," she pointed out suspiciously.

"It's been known to happen."

She looked back down at the invitation in her hand. Tomorrow? She could throw together an outfit by then. But that was so soon… usually Hana knew to give Irie more time than that. On the other hand, she was also a bit of a scatterbrain, perpetually busy with her own life and forgetting details like that.

"I'll think about it."

By the next day, if she'd made her decision, she didn't let anyone know. Instead, she insisted on helping the guys get ready for their next journey, determined to sit out this adventure, and everyone agreed; even so, Jin and Irie came down to the living room together after having prepared a couple of bags for the group to bring along, the two of them looking distinctly ruffled and far too pleased with themselves. Irie kept stealing glances at Jin, and she couldn't keep herself from grinning when he returned the look; she tossed the bag in her hand at Kurama during one such exchange, and he dropped it promptly into Rinku's hands.

"... Sure you don't wanna go with us?" Rinku asked slowly, giving Kurama a questioning look.

His smile was cold. "Very. I have my own work to catch up on in the laboratory, you know."

Rinku watched him for another moment before finally shrugging and saying, "Alright, then."

"So," Irie had started, approaching Yusuke with a pleased grin, "Remember, if you all get separated, don't panic, but getting together has to be your number one priority. That alone could be enough to trigger the portal opening."

"Yeah, I remember-"

" _No_ ," she said sharply, "Not like that. I mean like the time my friends and I found ourselves running through a trap-filled maze, and we literally just needed to find each other to get back home. Last world, I'm pretty sure it was just us giving the horse back to Prince Charming."

"How'd you work that one out?" asked Kuwabara, petting one of the cats who had decided to see them off.

"We were ready to leave, but he probably needed the horse to continue his story. It's just… one of those things."

"If I didn't hate taking notes," Yusuke insisted, "I'd tell ya that you'd need to just teach us a class about this dimension-thing of yours."

"Trust me," she sighed, reaching beneath her pigtail to scratch the back of her neck- Kurama twitched a little when he saw a small, teeth-like bruise just below her ear- "We'd be here for a _year_."

"Yeah, no thanks," Chu chimed in, slinging the bottle of wine that Irie had allowed him to bring back into the appropriate bag pocket. "Arright, let's get this show on the road-"

Kaito dialed in the numbers, and Irie gave the machine a tentative _thunk_ to turn it on. "Hopefully, this universe will be similar to the last one," Kaito explained to the group. "There should only be some minor changes."

"Or it might feel identical," Irie quickly pointed out, "The difference could just be that everything happens two minutes earlier than it did in the last universe, and that's a really easy one to miss. But it'll be a good sign for us."

Yusuke rolled his eyes. "Got it. Get in, look around, get out as fast as we can."

"Precisely."

She waved them off, and one by one, she watched the bulk of her tenants climb into the portal. It took a little longer for the newest members of the adventuring team, of course, as they had to go through the usual inspection and occasional jaw-drop, but go they eventually did. Of course, Jin hung back for a moment.

"One more."

"One more wha-?"

The grab around Irie's waist was forceful and drew her in until there couldn't possibly be any less space between them, and he cut her off with a rough kiss from which Kurama had to avert his eyes. When he looked back, Jin was flashing her a playful wink and jumping head-long into the television set, leaving Irie pink and grinning like an idiot. _Sickening_ \- no, Kurama, knock it off. Envy is bad for the living environment.

It wasn't only the two of them left behind, and that made the prospect of staying back more bearable for him; Kuwabara, Botan, and Kaito were all milling about the place, giving him people to talk to whom he _didn't_ find insufferable. No, that wasn't right, either. He couldn't stand that it wasn't _him_ making her act like a giddy, lovestruck girl.

But she smiled at him like they'd been friends all along, and that softened him. "Guess that's my cue to start getting ready, then," she said brightly.

"You have somewhere to be?"

"Yeah. Might as well."

In a few hour's time, Kurama was watching her give herself a final go-over in the foyer mirror, primping her carefully put together buns and making miniscule adjustments to her short cardigan before going back over her lips with a dot of gloss. She'd decided on a white dress, lightly peppered with clusters of strawberries, that made her look like she was about to go on a leisurely stroll through the countryside. That was probably the intention, he thought, when he saw the basket-like purse she was shouldering.

 _Be happy for me_.

"I can't believe you're actually leaving the mansion," he quipped with a small grin, catching her gaze through the mirror. He was going to _try_ to do what she wanted, damn it. Her eyes went back to her own face while she dabbed a bit more powder on her nose.

Her tone was drier than a desert. "Right? Irie the Hermit, over here, going out into the sunlight for the first time."

"I'm happy," he insisted, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "It's good."

With a petulant huff, Irie muttered, "Why are you all so hell-bent on me getting out of the mansion? Surprise coup?"

"Surprise coup. You caught us. We just want a smooth transition of power."

She finally turned to look at him, and she was taken aback by the concern drowning out his smile from his eyes. Dare she think it… sadness? "Sheesh, you look more worried than I feel," she snorted, shifting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. "I'll… be fine, I'm sure."

"You will." And he meant it. Kurama reached out for her, much like he had the other night, but thought better of his original idea and touched her shoulder just as she'd pulled open the front door; Buttons the dog had been pacing around the porch, and started happily wagging his tail when he finally saw people. "Just have fun, alright?"

"Always do." A small crease had worked its way between her eyebrows as she studied his face, and she gave him a small, puzzled smile until she finally said, "I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone."

"Well, don't rush yourself _that_ much," he chuckled warmly.

She just smiled and shook her head at his lame joke, then gave Buttons a scratch behind the ears. "You behave and look after everyone for me, alright sweet boy?" Her request was answered with a soft _boof_ , and he simply flopped against Kurama's legs to the chorus of more of her laughter. "Good dog."

Buttons had convinced Kurama to pet him while they watched Irie stuff herself into her car and flash them one final wave and smile before putting the vehicle in gear and rolling off down the long driveway. "I thought your breed was supposed to be aggressive?" Kurama asked, looking down with an expectant smile, and he was answered with a thick wag of the tail. "Alright, come on. Let's go inside and… read, or something."

The hours wore on, and the mansion had never been so _quiet_. It was so peaceful, he actually found himself relaxing while he and the animals (for Duchess and the cats had decided to join him) arranged themselves around the fireplace in the parlor with a small stack of books. He was taking this "break" from the mission seriously, and wanted to try to enjoy himself… if he could just stop wondering if she was alright. She hadn't left the property alone since he'd arrived, and he couldn't help but miss her, if he was honest.

As the sun started to sink into the sky and the stars appeared in the twilight, he kept repeating to himself that she was probably just having more fun than she'd expected.

* * *

Another scream pierced the quiet of the building, ringing like the echoes in a cave, and Irie felt her muscles lock up again. Pain ripped through her body for the longest fifteen seconds of her entire life, until the electrodes were finally removed from her back and she was left slumped forward in her chair, breathing heavily with tears falling down her cheeks. She whimpered and flinched, seeing car jacks being brandished at her from the corner of her eye.

"Tell us where it _is_ ," he hissed pointedly, jabbing the clamp towards her nose so hard that she flinched, "And how to access it, or I'll hook your tits up to this fucking _car battery_."

Her wavering eyes locked onto his gaze, and she sneered. She had no better judgment to go against when she spat in his face. "Go fuck yourself." Her voice was cracked and small, but she still managed to sound a little threatening.

The man recoiled, disgusted, and snapped his fingers so that one of his lackeys could cut away her bra the way they had her blouse, and that stupid symbol floated in front of her face again as they attached the cold metal to her sensitive skin: six cheese puffs swimming in synch? Was that how Masa had described it, once? Wal*Mart. Seiyu. _Evil_ , in any name that you gave it.

How had they _found her?_

"When my friends find me," she growled, ignoring the cold, hard pinch of metal, "They're going to _fucking murder you!"_

"No one's going to come to your rescue," the man said, the fifth time she'd heard it since she was brought to this room. "Tell us now and save yourself."

He was right. No one knew where she was. There had been no tea party, no girls that she hadn't seen in forever to hang out with, only a dark street, a black van, and half a dozen hands reaching out and wrestling her inside. Even if he wanted to, Kurama couldn't come running for her this time. She wondered why she thought of him, and not Jin? Well, she knew- the better question was _Why Jin at all?-_ but that was literally at the bottom of the list of priorities.

"I…" She trailed off into a weak chuckled and gave him her best glare that said she knew how he would die and she found it _hilarious_. "I think that there's not a dildo big enough in the fucking _Omniverse_ to fill _your_ bitch-ass."

Yes, Irie, go out on an anal sex joke. That's sure to work out well.

Any other insults she had were immediately muffled by the gag being stuffed back into her mouth, and replaced by stifled shrieks of mixed terror and fury. Her entire body was _aching_ , and they were prepared to do worse, but she still wasn't going to go out with a fight. That was what she told herself before the electricity was flipped on again.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _I was so excited to write the end of this chapter, guys_. Like, you have no idea. I actually had to write this one backwards, just so I could get it done. Also, I'm so sorry for not giving warning before- I wanted to be safe and boost the rating up on this fic to Mature because there's going to be more torture/gore where this came from.

Special thanks to **owlloveyou** and a guest for reviewing, as well as to everyone who's favorited/followed/been reading Grisaille! 'Til next time!

All my love, GrisailleDreams


	10. The Poodle and the Corporation

_I've been treated so long /_ _As if I'm becoming untouchable._

 _Contempt loves the silence. /_ _It thrives in the dark_

 _With fine-winding tendrils /_ _That strangle the heart._

* * *

 _Tick. Click. Tock. Thrrrum. Tick._

Each pass of his fingers drumming along the surface of the nameplate lined up with the ticking grandfather clock in the corner of the office, and Kurama was staring _hard_ at the engraved inscription. _Party Crasher, Professional Badass._ There were those words again. Did they mean anything? Would they give him a clue as to where she was?

The expedition party hadn't returned, either, and every second that they remained in universes unknown grated on his nerves. Twenty-four _long_ hours had gone by, and there was no sign of Irie. No call, no text, no distress signal… just silence echoing through the wide, empty hallways.

Wood scraping on wood broke the quiet as Kurama roughly stood from the chair and stalked out of the room, letting the door swing shut behind him. There was only one place he could think to look for further clues, and damn it all, he was going to check: he was going to break yet another promise to Irie and pick the lock to her bedroom door, something that he had never, in his wildest dreams, had thought he would end up doing. He'd already gone through the attic. The television held no relevant secrets, as far as he was aware. This was the next logical step, wasn't it?

Duchess was lying in front of the tightly-locked door and looked up at him with disdainful eyes; she knew what was on his mind.

"I don't need any of your judgment, Your Highness," he sighed, lifting a brow right back at her. "This is to find your mistress."

She simply whined and rested her chin back onto her paws.

The lock seemed fairly regular: an antique keyhole, no sign of a retinal or fingerprint scanner, or anything else that might have been far more bizarre. This _was_ the bedroom of a girl who used tongue print scanners to keep her weapons safe, after all. He remembered that the key to his own bedroom had been hidden behind a portrait. Maybe Irie's held her spare key? It would certainly be the most obvious method to the madness of the mansion that he'd figured out thus far.

Her face was so different, hanging on the wall and immortalized in oils. The twinkle in her eye and the knowing little smirk were unfamiliar to him, the way she held the knife seemed far too careless, and he hadn't realized how accustomed he was to seeing her with a great, fat tattoo on her face, which the portrait lacked.

What was easy was imagining her accusatory stare. "I'll apologize when you've come back home," he murmured to the painting, then slid it aside to reveal another small safe. Old-fashioned listening, aided by his sharp senses, helped him figure out the code, waiting for the dial to make that tell-tale _click!_ that signaled he'd hit the right number. It sprang open.

The key was large and clunky, and probably original to the mansion, itself, but it did the job: it met the keyhole without resistance. Finally, the lock _clicked!_ and popped open.

Everything in the room was the most delicate shade of powder-blue and accented with a matching off-white that gave it a crisp, calming feeling the second one stepped into it. The wide bay window set into the wall let in so much light and looked out over the front lawn with a kinder kind of view than the more austere windows offered.

To the untrained eye, it was the very normal bedroom for a very normal, if introverted young woman: lightly cluttered so as to look lived in, decorated lightly with lots of cute Sanrio characters - she seemed to have a preference for Chococat and Charmmykitty, of all things - a perfectly organized vanity mirror for applying makeup, and a mannequin dressed up in the fanciest outfit Kurama had ever seen Irie own, and not a bit of it was out of place. It was all so gentle and quietly bright, it almost seemed impossible that it would be her room, but he supposed that it was relaxing for her.

He had to stop dwelling on how it looked, and needed to get to work.

He inspected every single nook and cranny, searching for hidden panels, compartments, scanners, anything that would be one of the mansion's classic hiding places for important things. Would she keep records of her enemies here? Well, it was one of the only truly sacrosanct rooms in the building, and she was often within, so… probably.

Duchess had climbed a delicate little set of steps leading up to the bed, probably for the express purpose of letting her sleep on it, and barked at Kurama.

"I already told you, Duchess, I'm not leaving until I find something to help me."

Irie had enemies; she'd said as much. Seiyu, for one, or whomever would target her for stealing alien technology. Koenma, as hard as that was to believe, but Kurama didn't want to strike him from the record just yet.

She was always so careful in everything that she did that maybe she had left something behind for just such an occasion. Instructions, perhaps, for what to do with the mansion and everything within, or a plan for how to fetch her back. Of course she would have, why wouldn't she? She'd gone to so much trouble to be the mansion's warden, she wouldn't simply let it all go to waste, right? But she was young, would she think that far ahead?

He straightened up from searching beneath her vanity - and finding nothing. A thought had occurred to him. She wouldn't…

But, alas, he realized that he wasn't giving her nearly enough credit when he stretched out on the floor beside her bed and reached beneath to pull out the cardboard box labelled _IN CASE OF EMERGENCY._ It was so easy to find, with almost no security around it, because who would possibly be able to find it if she subjected it to all the protections the mansion had to offer? Her secrets, she had always known, would need to be shared if anything ever happened to her, and where else would the average young woman keep her secrets but beneath her bed?

The box was full of not novels' worth of writing or journals, but of video tapes, able to be played in any VCR, and the labels were oddly specific and frustratingly vague in turn. _Hashihime. That One Time I Went Missing for an Entire Year. A Basic Lecture in the Omniverse. Television. Security._

 _So I've Either Died or Gone Missing and You Have Questions About the Alien in My Basement._

He had to laugh a little. This woman.

This was the tape that he plucked up first. It was the most relevant, to his eyes, and the others would either have to wait until he knew she wasn't returning, or he wouldn't have to come back for them.

Just as he was closing the door behind him, Duchess darted out and into Botan's waiting arms; she straightened up and shot him the dirtiest glare while he locked it all back up, pretending that he'd had every right to be doing what he was doing. "What were you doing in Irie's room?" she demanded hotly.

"She still hasn't returned," he said calmly, "I was looking to see if-"

"What, you couldn't try _calling_ her?"

"I did. She's not responding to anything."

"I can't believe this, you _lost her_!" Botan was practically spitting, she was so agitated; she had never seen Irie be fierce, only cold and as fragile as a snowflake. Telling her might have been a mistake. "How could you _lose_ her?!"

His hand vanished beneath his hair to rub at the back of his neck, and he huffed. "I didn't _lose_ her," he replied quietly. Holding himself together was already enough work as it was. "She's an adult, she's allowed to leave the mansion that _she owns_ if she pleases."

"If it's not that big of a deal, then why do you look _worried_?"

Because maybe she shouldn't be allowed to leave the mansion whenever she liked. And because he couldn't believe that he and Yusuke both had not only let her, but _encouraged_ her to go.

" _Botan_ ," he said forcefully, "Listen to me: I'm going to find her and bring her home, alright? Haven't I done things like this often enough before?"

"Yes, but-"

"I'm almost positive that I found a clue to her disappearance," he cut off, holding up the tape, "With any luck, this will help me figure out where she's gone off to. We just have to _keep. Calm._ "

Easy for him to say. He sounded so still, like a stone-faced lake just before a tornado hit, that she was sure he'd murder the first person to stand in his way. Which, at the moment, was _her_. The realization terrified her, and she jumped out of his path.

"Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go study this tape. If you want to help, you may, but I'd appreciate it if we remained quiet while we watched."

"Y-... of course, Kurama."

… Well, she wasn't _not_ going to watch the tape, now. She hadn't seen the title of it, but if she had, she wouldn't have been any less willing.

They set up shop not in the living room - that television wasn't useful for this kind of thing - but in the bedroom Kurama was calling his own. After he fiddled with the machinery to hook up an old VCR that he'd found in the attic to the TV mounted on the wall, he turned off the lights, hold the popcorn, thank you very much, and pulled up his desk chair to frown at the screen while Botan settled herself on the edge of the bed.

There was static, the hiss of white noise.

And then, there was Irie.

She was sitting in a hard, metal folding chair, clutching the sides of the seat so tightly that her knuckles had turned as white as her face - though the tattoo was boldly displayed beneath her eye, she was clearly a few years younger, before she'd taken the final few steps of physically maturing into adulthood. She couldn't have been older than nineteen, and she was shaking like a leaf.

Her large eyes stared at the camera. Her hands nervously folded themselves in her lap. She took a deep breath, opened her mouth-

And promptly burst into tears.

The tape cut there, but only for a moment. When she returned, she had a leg tucked beneath her, forcing her knee to jut out at an awkward angle, and her eyes were red and tear-stained. They darted away from the camera lens, and she gave a great sniff.

" _Sorry, I…_ " There was a deep breath to steady herself. " _I'd promised myself I'd make these, and I'm going to. Okay. So, if you're watching this, it means that I've either died, or you can't seem to find me. First and foremost, if you haven't already been in the basement, you will need to go there once you've finished with the tape - the lab is your first priority. There will be a binder in one of the locked desk drawers labelled with the letters Gamma and Beta. It will provide you with instructions for what you find._

" _Secondly, you're going to want to know where I… well, how I acquire what you find down there. And, I guess this'll probably answer another question._ "

She stopped talking to rub her face, and take another deep breath to steady herself again, but there was something more behind it. Like she was making a decision in that moment. " _If I am missing, then I have not left of my own accord. I have been captured. It's either going to be a demon, or, more likely the Wal*Mart corporation - Seiyu, if you need the specification. But you shouldn't bother trying to find me, I'm sure by the time anyone thinks to look for me, I'll already be dead."_

There was a bitter laugh that followed. " _That… that sounded really melodramatic, didn't it? I didn't mean for that, I just… that's the truth. And you're probably wondering why I just listed a supermarket as a probably kidnapper. And, I just… you have no idea. The things we saw there. The things we did - what I did… oh my God."_ This time, she buried her face in her palms. " _Oh my God, I can't believe this, how has everything gone to fucking shit?"_

It took five extra minutes for her to calm down on tape - clearly, she hadn't had either access to or the ability to use editing software, because none of this was cut beyond the camera turning off - but she finally stopped hyperventilating. Her eyes burned into the camera lens, and slowly… _so_ slowly, Irie started to give her account of how she'd come to steal Jelly Bun away from Seiyu.

* * *

At some point, she'd become numb to the shocks, and they'd started other methods: first sleep-deprivation, then straight-up beating her when she started snoozing through literally everything. She made for a frustrating target of torture, and she was determined to keep it up. This time, when a hand shot out and cracked itself like a whip across her swollen, bloodied cheek, it wasn't the man who'd tried interrogating her before, this time, but an employee.

" _Wake up!_ "

"Was that supposed to hurt? Please, you shouldn't have used electrocution for your opening move."

 _This_ is what Toriaka had taught her. Not resourcefulness, not the ability to smoothly lie her way through any situation, and certainly not compassion.

Snark in the face of pain. Stubbornness until the end.

A foot buried itself in her abdomen, forcing every last bit of air from her lungs, and she started coughing. But she was laughing, too, a horrible, rattling sort of wheeze.

"Ooh, a little harder~" she egged on, once she caught her breath again. "I almost _liked_ that one." Just to throw them all for a loop, she let out a small but wanton moan the next time she was hit in the mouth. "Mm, that's it~"

That had been a mistake, though, or at least gave them ideas to do worse things over the hours that followed. The best thing she could do was lie back, go limp, and silently take it until it was over; if there was one thing she could do 'correctly' under duress, it was not give her captors satisfaction of any kind. She simply put her thoughts elsewhere.

A warm summer day. A walk in the woods. A hand holding on tightly to hers. Gold eyes turned into green ones as they smiled at her.

But that eventually stopped, too, when she still refused to talk. The following isolation, when they dragged her broken, beaten body into a dark and empty room and locked her inside, wasn't for mind-breaking, but because they were working out what to do to her, next, and it was the only time that she let herself shut down. She slept on and off, drifting in and out with her eyes perpetually closed, wondering vaguely if she wasn't hurting because she was in shock and already dying. In her sleep, she dreamed of so many things.

Somewhere, in that foggy thing she called a memory, she found a Nerf gun.

A foamy dart pelleted against her temple, bouncing away and she laughed. She turned - there was no one in the aisle behind her, and that was perfectly fine. She readied her weapon and closed one eye to aim, then waited until she saw her target's elbow sticking out from behind a shelf.

" _Say your prayers, Noir~_ " she growled from the corner of her mouth. She'd been keeping count. She knew _exactly_ how many more hit points were left. The second her friend's face peeked out from its hiding place, Irie pulled the trigger.

" _No!_ " Her victim dramatically fell the floor, clutching her face. " _You've done it! You've killed me!_ "

Irie let out a victorious laugh, hand on her hip while she held the Nerf gun against her shoulder. "Ha! Black team wins!" she chortled. "Hear that, Storm?"

"Aw, yeah~!"

Masa rounded the corner of the shelf, "gun" in hand, grinning and quickly followed up by Mitsu and Ayame; they also sported the fake weapons, goggles, communication sets, and big, bright smiles. This was the most fun that any of them had had in ages, and it just… it felt so _right_ for Irie. Like she was enclosed in that enchanted circle again, loved, and the group was whole. Unbroken. Un _breaking_. She could still pretend that for a little while; they were still friends, and she could see it on Shinjuko's face when she helped her back to her feet. Hell, even running for their lives from Seiyu security, when their game was discovered, was fun.

Divide and conquer was their favorite strategy in all things; while the others scattered throughout the store, Masa and Irie darted to the offices. No one ever checked there. Unfortunately, as they peeped through door windows, they discovered that most of the rooms had occupants: an employee lounge, a meeting room, a laboratory, a-

A laboratory?

"Holy _shit_."

The door had had no window, only a sign that read in cold, blocky letters _AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY_. Of course they had to open the damn thing and see what was inside - maybe it was an even better hiding place. In reality, it was dimly-lit, the only light coming from a large, empty, cylindrical set of tanks in the corner and lazily blinking screensavers, all of it reflecting off of the metal surfaces…

And there was a body.

It was stretched out on a table in the center of the room, covered by a thick, plastic sheet and smelling strongly of preservatives; of _course_ they were going to pull back its covering. Though, on second thought, that probably wasn't the best decision, because there were some things that, once seen, couldn't simply be _un_ seen. Both of them recoiled, and neither could tear their eyes away.

The flesh was dried and withered beneath thin, parchment-like skin the color of ash, and stretched out across bones that were far too knobbly to be human. As if that was the dead giveaway that the creature wasn't. It's cranium was bulbous and gigantic, but it dramatically tapered into a tiny, beakish mouth and a chin so miniscule that it was practically absent. The eyes were closed, but it was obvious that open, they would have been massive.

Masa and Irie slowly looked up at each other, sobered. "They've been testing on it…" Irie whispered. The torso had been cut open and stitched back together for some unknown purpose, but it almost looked like an autopsy. "Augh, _gross_."

"Why, though?" Reaching for one of the binders, Masanori flipped it open with a frown and started reading while Irie took a look around.

She was drawn to a rack full of petri dishes, most of them untouched, though a handful contained cell clusters, labelled with crisp, black marker. _2.9, 3.14, 12.30._ Dates.

"' _Subjects acquired from northern Siberia have had reproductive cells successfully harvested, which are now being prepared for fertilization,'"_ Masa read out loud, _"'March sixth - Test samples C, J, K, and P are still stagnating, but alive, unlike their siblings. Preparations for further zygote samples are underway, hopefully in the next fortnight.'_ Shrimp, they're _growing_ things."

"... Growing aliens?" Irie asked, glancing back at the body before turning back to Masa. "What would they want to do that for?"

"Nothing good," Masa replied grimly, solidly shutting the binder. "There are instructions in here for how to grow more, plans for… for making _fetuses_."

Irie shuffled through loose documents, then blanched. "Shit…" she breathed. "Shit, _Storm_ , look at this: genetic modification, alien civilizations and diplomacy, _hostage negotiations_. They're going to use these alien offspring as… as…" She couldn't bring herself to say it.

"We need to go." Suddenly, Storm was in high-gear, spurred on by the realization that they had stumbled upon something that went _way_ beyond anything they'd ever had to deal with before; the Multiverse, Spirit World, demons, _anything_. They'd watched plenty of those alien-doomsday movies, he knew exactly how this went. "Shrimp- _Shrimp, what are you doing? Put that down!_ "

She didn't know _what_ was compelling her to put them in her bag, but Irie found herself shoving petri dishes deep into the bottom, carefully, then snatching away the binder containing instructions for their care. "Destroy it," Irie said brusquely, picking up some heavy, plastic box from a nearby table. It looked like a battery pack. "All of it. They can't be allowed to do this."

"Shrimp, this is the real world - _our world!_ You can't just-"

"All those other worlds are real, too," she protested hotly. With a mighty swing, she smashed the battery pack into the tank and the glass shattered. Water rushed out of it in a large burst, flooding the floor. "But I'm going to do something _good_ for ours, dammit."

Masa looked like he was ready to punch his friend right in the face until she came to her senses, but he sighed. "Fine. _Fine._ But if the fallout from this is-"

"We'll be fine, we always are - contact Noir, have her destroy the security tapes."

The call was made, and in the end, not only did they destroy a significant amount of the technology and research in the room (destruction truly _was_ their specialty), but they'd also managed to squirrel away bits of mechanics. Irie wanted them for her own study. She felt _exhilarated_ , too: they had uncovered an evil plot contrived by _Seiyu_ , of all places, and they'd managed to thwart them! Well, to some extent, anyway. Who knew how wide the scope of this scheme truly was?

As they ran away, the store was in chaos; people were being evacuated, security was being mobilized in a way that wouldn't have been expected from a megamart squad, and as Irie and her friends drove away, a sleek, black car pulled into the parking lot. Four men in navy blue suits and sunglasses stepped out, and one of them turned to watch Masanori's SUV speed away with a clear frown.

She couldn't have known then how damaging her actions had been, staring out the back window with that bag of contraband clutched in her arms. Not just to herself, but to _all_ of them. They wouldn't find out for a few hours afterwards.

 _We have to change our names._

But hadn't she done the right thing? Putting this dent into their nefarious plans?

 _We have to go into hiding._

Wasn't this what they wanted to do when they formed their band in the face of the Omniverse? Play the hero?

 _We have to erase all traces of our existence._

Play _God_?

 _We will never be able to stop._

" _And it's all my fault_."

On the tape, Irie had broken out into tears again, and curled into herself while she struggled to find words; she was unable to look at the camera any longer, too ashamed of everything she had done.

" _And now everything's gone wrong, and I can't… I can't… Koenma should have just killed me."_ Her voice was barely more than a whisper, and Kurama swallowed down the lump that had risen in his throat, watching her. Was he finally going to hear the story? The whole, goddamn story?

But the tape cut off there.

"Oh, that poor, sweet girl…" Botan murmured, holding a hand to her mouth, and Kurama ignored her every word.

His heart started racing, and he bolted from the room and made a beeline for Irie's room, again. He went back to the box, sifting through them, desperate to find the next one in the sequence. Her next confession. But which one _was_ it? Not _Security,_ probably, and certainly not _A Basic Lecture in the Omniverse_. _Hashihime_ , perhaps? That name rang a tiny, faint bell. His knuckles were white on the sides of the cardboard as his nails pierced into the edges, and he had to force himself to focus on the issue at hand. He couldn't worry about the Koenma problem, now, he wasn't the one who took her. Otherwise, his minions would have invaded the damn mansion, by now, stripping it of its treasures and taking them away under the guise of "protective custody."

 _They_ were. Seiyu. Wal*Mart. Whichever name they chose to use. As bizarre as that sounded, and he genuinely had never believed that he'd ever be thinking vicious thoughts towards a grocery store, but here he was, already formulating the most efficient, most brutal punishment he could think of for her captors if he found that they had touched so much as a hair on her head, and they were sure to be doing far worse. But he couldn't find her alone. He needed numbers, and he needed eyes.

He needed to wait for Yusuke and the others to return.

* * *

" _C'mon, wake up you little…"_

Irie awoke from her dream with a gasp as ice-cold water poured horrifically over her head and into her lap, trickling unpleasantly down the back of her neck and freezing against her bare skin.

"Wake _up_!" he snapped again, backhanding her face so she would look up at him, exhausted but not defeated.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered sarcastically, her voice creaking and cracking with how _raw_ it was, "Where are my manners? How can I help you?"

"My colleagues and I," he began, pulling up a chair that hadn't been in her cell before and sitting just two feet before her, "Have decided that maybe you'll respond better to something else. A trade of information, of sorts - honey, instead of vinegar, and all that."

This was the single best look she'd gotten of him since her capture; unmarred by black eyes or pain, he was middle-aged, greying, but sharply dressed in his perfectly tailored, navy suit and with a cool, calculating, infuriatingly likeable sort of expression that had likely gotten him many a promotion. There wasn't a single hair or garment out of place, and such a subtle, perfect cologne hit her nose that even she couldn't find a way to think of it as offensive. In spite of this, all she saw was a cobra with its hood flared out.

"If you think _bribing_ me's gonna-"

"'Bribery' is such a _dirty_ word, I think," he interjected, and he tried to smile amicably. "Really, the way that I see it, it's more of a mutual gift-giving."

Sneering, she snapped, "I don't want any _gifts_ from you. That you've even offered tells me you're far more stupid than I thought." Or desperate.

"Oh, you'll want this one," he assured, and he leaned back in his chair while he licked his forefinger and started flicking through a file folder. "Irie Endo… alias: _Shrimp_. How adorable, a childhood nickname. But- ah, yes, neither of those are your real names, are they?"

"Fuck you, my name's always been-"

He leaned forward and whispered something in her ear. "... I said that correctly, didn't I?" the man added, a little more loudly and with a smile that knew she'd been shaken.

"My name," she insisted darkly, angrily, "Is, and always has been _Irie Endo_."

 _Ignore it_. There must have been backup files that Shinjuko missed.

"Suit yourself," he smoothly said, and sat back in his chair. "Whichever you demand that you be known by, one thing is certain: there's someone you've been searching for for quite a while, isn't there?"

Her eyes narrowed just a _sliver_. "I've looked for a lot of people," she murmured hostilely. It was obviously a dodge, but it was also true.

"Then allow me to be more specific: a very tall, very _handsome_ man in his early thirties, white hair, missing an eye-"

Her heart sank into her stomach. "Stop-"

"Ah, and what was his name, again? Perhaps you remember, little bird?"

" _Don't_ -"

"Oh, right. _Gentoka_. That's it. What an unusual name." The man sat back as if he had a steel rod in his spine; he knew he was close. "Of course, he's quite an unusual person, isn't he? He _insists_ that he doesn't know who you are, but we're still detaining him. You understand. Your circle was always so good at lying."

She went rigid in her seat, refusing to look him in the eye while she pursed her lips and tried to will herself into not bursting into tears. After everything else, this couldn't be the thing that broke her.

 _How did they know about him?!_

"You're bluffing," she whispered, so quiet that almost no sound came out and her captor had to rely on reading her lips. "You don't have him, you've never seen him before-"

His laugh sounded like nails on a chalkboard, and garnered a similar reaction from her. "Are you willing to call that bluff?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "I can easily reunite you with him; we have him in our custody, and he's only two doors down. All you have to do is tell me everything you know about the technology you stole from us, Miss _Endo_ , and hand it over."

That did it: a single tear streaked down her cheek, and she smiled sadly, bitterly at him. "And I'm supposed to expect that you'll let us walk out after all this? Alive? _Fuck you_. You know his name, you know what he looks like, but you don't fucking _have him_. You're a lying, manipulative, sick sonovabitch, _and I wouldn't tell you anything if you brought him to me BEGGING._ "

Spittle flew into his face as he watched the screaming, enraged girl; naked and bludgeoned with long-running makeup. matting curls, and crazed eyes, she was still terrifying for the information she held and the threat she'd been posing to the Corporation for years, but it was hard to take her seriously when her raving broke off into a nasty, thick cough. He almost thought that it was simply a side-effect of the torture, but then he noticed speckles of blood dotting her chin and lap where it had fallen.

"What's wrong with you?" he demanded, driving the toe of his shoe into her shin.

She just laughed. "Wouldn't _you_ like to fucking know?" she chuckled before being sent into another hacking fit.

He let out a frustrated grunt while kicking at her leg again, and he growled over the sound of her fresh cackling, "Fine. You want to obstinately call my bluff? Let's see how you feel when you find out you've made a losing bet." He turned on his heel and threw open the heavy, metal door, saying to someone out of her line of sight, " _Set it up_."

Twenty minutes. Time enough for her laughter to cease and her coughing to ease up, but from the now-continuous (though sluggish) drip of blood from her lip, Irie knew she didn't have much more time remaining to her. The longest she'd ever gone was forty-eight hours, and it had been how many, now? She'd lost her sense of time, here.

She wasn't showing it, nor would she: there was a crack in her resolve. A moment of weakness made her whimper very quietly, under her breath.

" _Masa_ ," she croaked to herself, the first name that came to her, " _Kurama. Help._ "

* * *

Kurama was at his wits' absolute end when the team finally tumbled back through the television, laughing, cajoling, raucously praising one another for their performance, and completely unsuspecting the way he jumped to his feet and glared at them all.

"Well, look who's returned," he said icily. "Don't bother sitting down, gentleman, we have things to do."

"Hey, buddy," Yusuke snickered; his amusement was still dying away. "What's gotten your ponytail into a knot? Get into a fight with _Irii_ aga-?"

"Stop talking. _Listen_." He released Yusuke's shirt collar, which he'd snatched up into his fists faster than any of them could blink, but didn't back down. "Irie's gone missing, and I know who's taken her, I just don't know where they went. I've been waiting for you to get back for _nearly an entire day_ because I don't have the pleasure of being able to be in more than one place at one time, and Koenma doesn't care if she lives or dies."

"You're being ridiculous." Yusuke's brown gaze was dark and hard as he pushed around Kurama. "Seriously, you know as well as I do that he'd send you help if you needed it."

"Oh, please, he _hates_ her."

"I know they're not exactly friends," Botan countered; she was sitting on the arm of one of the chairs, idly swinging her legs back and forth while her concerned eyes swept over the lot of them. "But I don't think he _wouldn't_ care if she died."

"He'd only care about to whom she'd leave the mansion in her will!" he snapped back. "Now seriously, Irie's in actual trouble and I am _not_ going to let you sit back for this one."

"Hey, _cool it_. I didn't say I was sitting back." Yusuke's glare was exactly as steady and even as Kurama's, and he held it, well. It was the kind of expression that reminded him that he'd been Raizen's heir, and not just a human pink. "Of course we'll help you, now calm down. She's probably fine."

"Pro'lly just stayed out with her friends," Jin pointed out. He was infuriatingly unconcerned, and it was _grating_. "The lass doesn't get herself into trouble."

"She also doesn't make a habit of staying away from the mansion for more than a day," he replied. His irritation flared a little stronger for Jin - this was his level of caring, and she'd chosen to sleep with _him_? "If you want to stay behind, then please do. But I'd feel better if I knew where she was and why we can't contact her."

"Okay, okay, calm down."

" _I am perfectly calm."_

"Sure you are."

They'd all been friends for long enough that even they could tell when the normally inscrutable Kurama was stressed. It wasn't often, but it was certainly clear: the subtle way his fingernails dug into the fabric of his sleeve, the sharp way in which his eyes pierced into everyone's faces in turn, how he remained perfectly, inhumanly still. This was his version of tearing his own hair out.

Yusuke crossed his arms over his chest. "So, where do we start looking?"

Kurama let out a long, heavy sigh. "Keep an open mind, Yusuke, because I can guarantee that you're not going to believe me at first when I tell you."

* * *

They didn't let her see the face; the uncertainty was what made it worse. The camera was focused solely upon the snake who'd tried and failed to unnerve her, his hands behind his back and a calm, even sort of smile on his face, standing confidently beside an occupied chair. Only an arm, strapped down to the furniture, was visible, pale, toned, and naked. The fingers trembled, and she could hear the shaky breathing: another man. It was intimately close, with a headset pressed deep into her ears so that she couldn't even _try_ to pretend that it was far away.

 _"Miss Endo."_

The voice didn't crackle. The technology was too smooth, too sophisticated for such a thing - would the corporation accept anything less?

She sat perfectly straight in her own chair, with as much pride and dignity as a woman in her position could manage. There was a camera blinking mockingly in her direction, and she knew he was watching for her reactions.

He didn't wait for her to greet him. He knew she wouldn't. " _Miss Endo, so far, you have not responded to our asking politely for the information that we seek. Unfortunately, this means that we will have to use some of the less..._ kind _means at our disposal. As you can see, we have a certain friend of yours willing to assist us in this matter-"_

 _"I've told you before,"_ came a weak, exhausted voice, _"I don't know_ who _-"_

There was the muffled sound of a fist against flesh, followed by a grunt.

She didn't even move her eyes.

" _Like I said: he's more than happy to help in any way he can."_

There was a brief flicker in his gaze; her burning glare was boring into him, unnerving and promising him the worst vengeance for daring to bring another person into this sort of battle of wills. This was their business. Not that of this poor man, whoever he was, whoever the executive _claimed_ him to be.

"I'm not telling you jack. _Shit_." she muttered venomously.

" _Then he will suffer for your insolence."_ It wasn't even a threat, it was a simple statement. " _One more time, before I start using coercion: where is the technology that you've stolen from us?_ "

 _"Fuck_ you."

The man lifted a hand and waved for someone to come join him onscreen, some faceless worker drone who probably had done this a hundred times before. His expression was blank: this was simply business as usual.

The knife painted a slow, long, red line along the side of the captive's arm, starting from the crown of his shoulder and dragging downward until it reached his elbow; his scream was blood-curdling, and personally heart-wrenching. He wasn't used to this kind of pain, not like she was. The worst he'd probably ever had to deal with was a broken bone as a child. This wasn't his world, and this wasn't his punishment - he was just some poor bastard caught in the middle of all this.

A single, straight lock of silvery hair fell over his shoulder and caught itself against the spare bit of chest that had writhed its way onto the screen. Irie's breath caught in her throat, and she gasped when the blade gleamed in the fluorescent lights, ready to keep going; then, suddenly, it paused.

A question and an answer passed between executive and drone, and the tip of the blade sunk down a single millimeter.

" _Where are you hiding it?_ "

It wasn't him. It _wasn't_. She kept telling herself that over and over again - they could have found anyone in the country with his muscle tone and slapped them into a realistic-enough wig to fool her for a single heartbeat, but it wouldn't be enough. She wouldn't talk.

"Fuck off."

" _If you insist._ "

The knife twisted, and dug in deep. Watching the screen without breaking eye contact while his screams pierced through her ears was the hardest thing she could remember doing in a very long while, but if she was going to die here, she might as well do it defending her mansion and her alien until her last breath.

" _Let's continue, shall we?"_

* * *

 **Author's Note:** How many chapters can I apologize for being ridiculously late on updates before it gets old? Because I'm going to keep doing it.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this one! It's gotten more intense than I'd ever intended for it to be, and I'm really digging it. And I hope you're liking that we're finally getting into more of Irie's backstory.

Special thanks to users owlloveyou, CassieL, and redrosesandfullmoons for reviewing! And thank you to all of my readers, I really appreciate you all. Until next time!

Lots of love, GrisailleDreams


	11. Dance, Fucker, Dance

_There's something in your way,_

 _And now someone is gonna pay,_

 _And if you can't get what you want,_

 _Well, it's all because of me._

* * *

The very corner of the stamp _taptaptapped_ against the paper from between his middle and rings fingers, and Koenma didn't notice the tiny smudges of red that he was leaving without actually signing anything at all. Kurama would kill him if he knew what was being considered - but the original version of this order had been drafted long before he even knew about the girl in the first place.

 _It's just a safety precaution._

That had been what he'd told himself when it was first delivered to him a few short years ago by only his most trusted ogre secretary. It was just a formality, a requirement, an unpleasant, bureaucratic necessity. He was never going to _use_ it; she was a child, and she had learned her lesson.

But after speaking with Kurama and learning of her mysterious abduction, well... he couldn't say that it wasn't tempting.

All things considered, it might be better to grit his teeth and do it, actually, for all parties concerned. The countryside arsenal would fall into protected hands, and she would finally find peace. Koenma would make sure of that. Her isolation had been a form of repentance, and for that, he wouldn't let her lose herself in Hell. He could still remember her as she had been the first time they met, the sniveling, sorry, horrified kid who cowered before him with fear - even when he was in his toddler form. Far from anything truly _evil_. Besides, she hadn't _meant_ to nearly kill him.

And the men that had come to know her would forgive him for doing it in the end, right? Well, Kurama would probably take a little convincing...

 _"Lord Koenma? Lord Miyatama is here for your bi-weekly meeting."_

He started a little and looked down at his intercom, pushing down on the button out of habit, but he hesitated, taking the moment to chew on his pacifier, instead, and...

"... Send him in."

He put the stamp away and stuffed the neutrality order in some lower drawer of his desk so that no one would see or ask questions. If signed, no one working under Koenma for this case, or any other, would be allowed to lift a finger to assist her, even if she was in imminent danger. _Neutrality_. It was as much a death warrant as the original version had been, and no amount of rewording would change that. What was he thinking?

 _... Life would be easier._

He only felt a little guilty, and that was the bit that was actually terrifying.

* * *

The street was quiet during the day, and Kurama and Yusuke found themselves quite alone while they searched for the address written in fancy calligraphy on the frilly invitation clutched in the former's hand. Obviously, the address was not only real, but familiar enough to Irie to risk leaving the mansion, and it had to be around here some-

"Yeah, it's definitely that one," Yusuke sighed, stuffing his hands in his pocket.

It looked like Irie's closet had exploded just on the other side of the window and got onto everything: the tablecloths, the chairs, the patterns on the tea sets, and the few patrons who were sitting around, drinking tea, eating sweets, and chatting merrily away with one another. There were even fresh-cut flowers adorning every pastel, lace-trimmed surface.

Kurama looked down at the invitation to double-check the name: _La Traviata Cafe and Bakeshop_. "Yes," he agreed softly. "Look at the street: tire skids, they only look a day or two old. Who would need to rush out that quickly in this area?" He was the one to step inside first, without a word, and all eyes, made-up to look larger and more doll-like than they actually were, turned onto them.

He could sense the hackles being raised at once; these bonneted, befrilled women were used to strange men giving them a hard time, and they were clearly wary of strangers. But he had no intentions of announcing their purpose, or even going person-to-person: he'd come prepared with Irie's photo in hand, and only after having searched for the woman from whom the invitation had been supposedly sent. As luck would have it, all of her social media said that she had been simply _thrilled_ that she would be coming here today.

There she was, at the center table: she wore a blonde, curled wig, and was covered from chin to toe in pink and blue pastel fabric, but he could tell by the round face that it was her. Hana.

He stood to the side of her table and gave him his best smile; oh, he remembered this from his high school days, wheedling information out of people with sheer charm. "Pardon us for intruding - we're actually looking for a friend of ours who said she was attending."

"Oh, _really_ ," she stated dryly. "Who, pray tell?"

Her friend stared at the newcomers with mild panic in her eyes, and leaned forward to murmur to Hana, " _Hey, do you need me to call management-?"_

"This girl right here, cupcake," Yusuke interjected, plopping down in the empty chair beside her and shoving the picture of Irie under her nose: it was a group shot where he had actually managed to capture half of Irie's face before she hid it behind something. More importantly, he and Kurama were included.

Hana narrowed her eyes a little at the picture, and then slowly let her gaze return to Yusuke. She was about to open her mouth when a staff member - management, by the looks of him - swiftly appeared at her side.

"Enjoying everything, Miss Hana?" he practically purred. "These two aren't bothering you, are they?"

"No, they're fine," she insisted, waving him away. "Seriously, _fine_. This is Irii-chan's - do you remember Irii-chan? The redhead with the flawless Baby, the Stars Shine Bright-Victorian Maiden game, oh my God, that last time she came in here with those rocking horse shoes and the customized Usakumya bag, really, I mean-"

" _Inspired_ ," offered her tea mate.

"Exactly, Takemoto Novala-sensei _himself_ , bless and praise his poetic soul, couldn't hold a candle to her gift of coordination, and let's _not_ forget about how that girl always had the latest Mary Magdalene releases-"

The fashion-language ramblings did the job perfectly, and once the girls had launched into their conversation, the staff member bowed and promptly excused himself. He probably had to listen to such idle, nonsensical chit chat all the time. The second he was gone, Hana held up her hand to her friend and the chatter ceased into its previous serious quiet.

"I didn't think Irie had too many friends outside of the Lolita circuit," she murmured. "She didn't have too many friends _inside_."

"Did you send her an invitation to this tea party?" Kurama asked.

"No, I _definitely_ didn't. The last time we were in here, she saw some beige van parked out front and freaked, then told me she never wanted to come back here again. Honestly, she hasn't returned any of my messages in several months. I was getting worried." She frowned, twirling a golden curl around her finger, and added, "Something happened to her, didn't it?" she asked in an even lower tone.

"Of course not," Yusuke smoothly said, shrugging his shoulders as he gave her a casual smile. "Really, we were supposed to meet up with her today, and we thought she told us this place. We must have been mistaken."

"Right…" She sighed a little and leaned back in her seat, sitting up perfectly straight. Not that she could do anything else in the dress she was wearing. "Listen: we're used to keeping an eye out for creepers. I don't know if it would have been the same van, but it was one of those blank kinds. I remember them following us down the road a little while until we ducked into the train station. She was convinced this guy in a blue suit with some… weird pin was on our trail, but if he was, he was gone by the time we boarded."

All he had to do was give her a questioning look.

"Hey, look," Hana said defensively, "I don't know what kind of stuff she was into. Yanki, those weird biker gangs, the damned Yakuza for all I know, but if she's missing, I want to help you find her."

"Don't worry," Kurama said softly; how bad was it when her friends _not_ privy to the mansion's secrets suspected something was deeply wrong? "She's fine. I promise."

Or, at least, she would be.

"Thank you for your time, Miss," he finally told her dismissively, and both she and her friend looked immensely relieved that he was leaving. "I'll have Irie contact you the second we see her, alright?"

"Yeah, I'd like that - tell she can't keep hiding from my tea parties!"

Kurama chuckled, and he and Yusuke walked back into the street, where they faced the skid marks again; only, this time, they knew for certain what they were.

"She didn't tell us anything we couldn't have guessed on our own."

"So, _literally_ nothing useful."

"Confirmation, if nothing else, that Irie was being followed. We should get our hands on some red light footage to be sure that they're using the same van."

"Maybe we should have started with that before bothering little _Irii-chan's_ friends."

"We wouldn't have confirmed this as the place to go."

"Uh… hey, genius, there aren't and red light cams around here. That intersection over there is way too far away."

He followed Yusuke's gesturing thumb and sighed a little when he saw that he was right. There wouldn't have been any camera footage. "Then we're tracking them the old-fashioned way."

If she had been watched at this exact establishment before, then why in any universe, multiverse, _Omniverse_ would she have returned, Kurama wondered irritably? There she was, a self-proclaimed master of stealth and hiding out, even survival, making obvious, basic errors and lapses of judgment. The Bandit King within him judged her for it.

 _You and Yusuke both encouraged her to go._

She shouldn't have listened to them. He was never going to forgive himself for that one, was he? He would have to if he was going to find her as quickly as he possibly could. Kurama cautiously crouched down near the black marks on the pavement and studied the serpentining pathway they carved.

"No offense, dude," Yusuke said while he concentrated, cracking a grin, "But I _almost_ want to make a joke about you being a bloodhound."

"... They went south," Kurama finally murmured, standing back up and thoroughly ignoring Yusuke's attempt at humor. "The tracks are about two days old, so they definitely fit the time frame. Where would they take her?"

"Uh… the grocery store?"

Kurama gave him a withering glare. "While there are three in that general direction, I'd hazard a guess at _no_. She's too important a prisoner to haul off to a twenty-four-hour department store."

"This would be _way_ easier with Hiei," Yusuke muttered under his breath, but when Kurama glowered again for his complaining, he huffed, crossed his arms over his chest, and suggested, "Okay, then what about a warehouse? There's got to be one sitting around a city this big. It's where I'd keep someone I wanted to hide."

The very corner of Kurama's mouth twitched upward. Oh, Yusuke had no idea. But he also wasn't carrying around a nail-studded baseball bat, and Kurama wasn't going to offer it as a solution to too much.

"Great. Let's go find one. If we find a van of matching description, all the better." Though, if he were running the operation, those cars would be getting changed out every time. But who knew if these people were really that smart?

"I'm calling in backup," Yusuke added, swiping his phone back from his pocket and hitting the speed dial. "We need more eyes, I think you'll happily agree."

"We can't have demons flying around in the middle of the day."

"Then we'll have to wait for dusk, won't we?"

Kurama said nothing; he knew that Yusuke was right and that the extra assistance would be best - particularly if they could have the help of Hiei and his Jagan - but who knew if they even had that time left to them?

* * *

"So… we _know_ that you have the technology that was stolen from our laboratories. We _know_ that you were responsible for destroying an amount of information and equipment that was, quite frankly, worth more than even _my_ life. We're not really sure why you did any of this and, to be honest, we don't particularly care - I'll even be kind and simply blame it on your age. But what I really don't understand - _lift it up_."

The lever was cranked the opposite direction to cease the steady flow of water from the tank, and the soaked cloth was removed from Irie's face, leaving her bug-eyed and gasping wildly for air like a drowning person coming to the surface. Harsh, ragged coughing came between the breaths, sending specks of blood flying and, eventually, forming a new trail down the corner of her lip and up her cheek to replace the one that had been present before - which had also been a replacement for other streaks.

"... But, you know, I just cannot _fathom_ why you're so willing to go through this ridiculousness - shall we bring in Gentoka, again?"

" _No_ ," she wheezed, with all the strength she was able to muster in that moment.

The man stood from his chair so that he could walk to the slanted, wooden board where she had been chained, feet over her head so that every stray drop of water would be sure to make its way to her face, and leaned down so that they were practically nose-to-nose. "Tell me what I want to know, and it'll be done," he whispered.

Her gaze focused on him, and her brows knitted together. "... _no_."

His expression never changed, not even when he straightened up and said, "Commence round four and set up the other one."

The cloth was draped over her face again with a soft, wet _slap!_ and her hyperventilation started up again; a tight, iron band started to squeeze around her lungs in anticipation, and trickles of water from the soaked fabric were already starting to slide down her nostrils, doing nothing to rid her mouth of the metallic taste of blood. She closed her eyes, jerked her head involuntarily to try to shake the water off - a pair of gloved hands came to her temples and hair and held her still, facing the stream that flowed back down upon her face. She knew that, after using every other tactic they could possibly think of, this was their last resort.

Either she would break, or she would die.

She heard more shuffling footsteps, a thump, a grunt - she recognized the voice. Not just because it was the one whose screams they had been playing in her ears while they berated her with questions and forced her to watch his brutalization, but because now, in the haze of being so close to death, she had been granted a bizarre sort of clarity. She'd known that voice, a long time ago.

It could have been a trick - perpetrated by the corporation, or by her own desperate mind - but when they stopped the flow of water over her face and started it again, a few feet away, his gurgling screams of terror drove the uncertainty away. Tears, distinguishable only by their heat, flowed down her forehead and into her scalp because now, of course, she was imagining if he really _was_ the man they claimed he was. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen for them. When she met… when she met _him_ the first time, this wasn't how she had envisioned their future.

… Granted, death by waterboarding at the hands of the corporation that had been hunting her down for the better part of a decade was something that she had expected for herself.

"I said _talk!"_

She flinched as the angry spray of saliva hit her face, and she had to catch her breath before screwing her face into another ferocious glare. "And I said," she breathed heavily, " _Go fuck yourself._ "

How many rounds did this make? Five? Six? Always long enough that she wasn't able to hold her breath for the entire time, no matter how good she was starting to get at it by now. She was losing count, and losing her goddamned mind-

 _Quit your incessant screeching, girl. Where are you?_

 _Hiei?!_

She unwisely gasped in that moment and inhaled a mouthful of water, then started coughing viciously to try to prevent too much from collecting in her lungs. Her torturers seemed to think that it was a sign that she was actually starting to break down, and it must have been the trigger for their leader to make them stop and let her catch her breath. She didn't hear his latest demand for information, or the witty remark that undoubtedly came with it, only the voice of the demon inside her head - well, one of them, anyway. She was too busy gagging on liquid.

 _Out with it, tell me where you're being held. Kurama's beside himself._

The ability to form coherent, speech-like thoughts was a struggle, particularly since she could feel him probing around in her brain for the information he was looking for. If only her captors had access to that power. They would have been pissing themselves with excitement. She tried to think to him, _Koenma didn't send you, did he?_

 _Quite the opposite, actually._

Good. She didn't want to owe that invasive little princeling any more than she already did. But there still came a wave of relief and hope that she didn't realize she hadn't murdered just yet, and it brought a fresh, twin trail of tears. There was actually a chance that she would be saved, and Hiei had said Kurama was there. Coming for her. Gods, she was so tired, she just wanted to finally sleep. Or embrace sweet, sweet Death. Whichever came first, she wouldn't struggle.

 _Bad blood and romantic notions aside - you don't know where you are, do you?_ he asked dryly.

She snarled weakly, but the last wave of water and round of coughing had sapped what little strength she had. Pictures were easier to send him than words. She showed him in flashes how she had made it to the cafe, how she had recognized the van when it pulled up beside her, and how six hands shot out and snatched her when she tried to run. They had smothered her nose with a chloroform-covered rag almost immediately, so she couldn't even try to track the van's movements.

 _I meant in the building, idiot._

With a huff, Irie tried to think of all the different rooms and hallways that she could remember, but they were peppered with others: mostly Gentoka, or the imposter posing as him. His screams were the loudest, and she couldn't tell if they were coming from her memory, or from his own torture at her side.

"Please, just stop…" he cried when they finally brought him back up from his own water bucket. The guilt gnawed at her belly to hear his terror and his broken sobs.

 _I was told we were extracting you, and you only. I have no obligation to the other one._

There was a hazy image of her feeding his arm through a meat grinder and putting it in a bowl to give to Buttons, but it was a faded, flickering thing that didn't stay in her mind for too long, and was gone sooner than she would have liked.

 _Empty threats won't help your cause, girl._

* * *

"... She's gone quiet," Hiei reported a moment later, staring at the dark, signless warehouse from two buildings over where he and the small team assembled were waiting. "They've probably started again."

"Where are they?" Kurama asked quietly. His whip was already white-knuckled in his hand. This was the fourth building related to Seiyu or Wal*Mart that they had checked that day, and the beige van was a popular company vehicle. Needless to say, he was frustrated - and willing to make heads roll for inconveniencing him.

"Couldn't say. She's not particularly coherent about that."

"Right." He tilted his head until his neck popped. "Hiei, you and the others work on keeping the guards busy and buy me time to look for her."

He cast Kurama a side-glance that, for Hiei, anyway, could have been described as curious, and he smirked a little at the dark tone that his friend's voice had taken. "Kill them all. Got it."

"No. You can leave a few of them for me to deal with."

"Perfect…" Hiei's gaze flickered back to the building, and his Jagan twitched a little. "You may want to hurry. She's starting to fade." A little like an out-of-tune radio, really, but at least she was still trying to communicate with Hiei.

Little things, like _Hurry_ , or _Kurama._ He rolled his eyes; sickening.

They already had a plan, and now that they knew that Irie was being held in that building, they dared to leap onto the roof of the next one over, so that nothing else was in their line of sight. Jin, Chuu, Yusuke, and Hiei waited for Kurama's signal, and he waited for the second pair of front-door guards to come and offer to relieve their comrades of duty.

 _Go._

Chuu and Yusuke jumped down from the rooftop and stealthily ran to the front door via the parking lot, using each car available to give them cover before moving ahead again. They took the four guards by surprise, and once Kurama saw them go down, he nodded to his remaining fellows. Hiei left to follow the first two; Jin stayed behind.

"You're supposed to be clearing out the building," Kurama hissed under his breath.

He shook his head with a firm, fierce look. "Nah. I'm coming with you, bud."

Their eyes met in an appraising way, and Jin actually wilted a touch underneath Kurama's iciness. It certainly wasn't something he expected.

"... Fine."

If Irie wanted Jin to find her, then far be it from him to prevent it. But he would try his hardest to be the one to save her first. Then, he mentally scolded himself: this wasn't a heroic, damsel-saving competition, they were looking for a friend who was very likely under threat of death. They didn't have time to compete.

* * *

Irie could see a red, pulsing light floating overhead, but she was deaf to the alarm now that all of her blood had soundly rushed to her head and ears. Her feet were numb, tingling, probably turning purple for all she could tell, and she wondered if that would that be the last thing she felt before she died? Even without the cloth over her face, her vision was crowded by stars and white noise enough that she wouldn't have to worry about the last thing she ever saw.

Suddenly, her hands were being loosed from the metal rings where they were bound on the board, and she was left to dangle by her ankles. She could hear the muffled voices - just barely.

 _"We have intruders."_

 _"Secure the prisoners."_

 _"There's no time for that, sir, we have to get you to the panic room. We'll have to settle for locking the door when we leave."_

 _"How do we know they aren't here for the girl?"_

 _"We won't let them get that far."_

She only caught about every fourth or fifth word, and then they suddenly faded away when the torturing squad left the room, so she only had the vaguest notion that they had actually left; she didn't even have the strength to keep her eyelids open, let alone to haul her upper body upward to try to release her ankles. Frankly, her hands were falling asleep, too, so she wasn't entirely sure that they'd actually let her wrists loose - they felt less like limbs and more like limp udon noodles. The pressure on her chest was increasing by the second, making her wheeze with each breath that always felt far too shallow, and she knew that she would be choking on her own blood when it started to trickle up her throat and fill her lungs. It was already trailing freely from her nose and into her eyes.

She forgot about Kurama or even Hiei coming to her rescue; instead, she thought about whether it would be the curse or the hanging upside down that killed her first?

This wasn't a fun game. Sleep was more and more appealing by the second.

* * *

Jin and Kurama made no sound and left no tracks as they wove their way through the aisles of the warehouse proper. No, they didn't think that these people were stupid enough to hide her among their wares, but they were trying to find the doors that led into hallways. Offices.

Cells.

Jin occasionally flew above the shelving units to try to get a look at the surrounding area, but he always had to dip back down again to avoid being seen. The rest of the warehouse was in a state of complete pandemonium, and they were comfortable in the knowledge that the chaos was being controlled by their companions. They could hear the alarm blaring, and the sounds of the brawl between their friends and the armed guards - and the occasional _pop!_ of a gun, quickly silenced. Yusuke kept that nonsense to a minimum.

Some guard passed them from the intersection with another aisle, and while Kurama would have been more than happy to ignore him, the idiot decided that he should be brave and double back in order to aim his gun at him. It took barely any thought for the thorn-studded whip to lash out, wrench the weapon from his shaking hands, and throw it to the side.

"Out of our way," Kurama muttered irritably, glaring venomously at him.

He seemed to get the message; the shivering guard, terrified by the fact that he'd just been disarmed by a plant, made a run for it.

Above, Jin took a sharp turn and veered over the edge of a shelf with a furious look on his face, and that's when Kurama heard the rushed footsteps. The second he, too, turned the corner, he actually saw the men that Jin was chasing: one in a much nicer version of the guards' uniforms, and the other in a perfectly tailored, navy suit with a funny-looking, bright orange pin on the lapel.

" _You get back here!"_ Jin yelled after them.

Kurama's grip on his whip tightened; he wanted to give in and chase after them just as much as Jin did, but there was something a little… off. Jin had been distracted by the chase, but Kurama had seen the pin and remembered what Hana had said about the last time she'd seen Irie. Those men weren't running towards the fight. They were escaping.

His eyes tore themselves away and stared instead down the hall from whence the two men had come. Jin and the others would capture them without issue, he knew. He would take care of anything they left behind, himself. Clues, evidence… a prisoner.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd run so fast.

* * *

Gravity jostled her to the other side of the line between consciousness and the pure, inviting darkness she'd been wanting to give in to, and she felt a pair of hands catch her before she could fall away completely from the board to which she was strapped. She thought that she had flinched, and then tried to curl into a ball, but it was nothing more than letting her head loll to one side and a twitch of her toes. What more could there possibly be? Couldn't they see that they had failed? She was dead, already, too weak to even cough out the blood that was welling in her lungs.

She was adjusted and felt something slip beneath her knees to support them, and her head found a shoulder to rest against while the fresh tears pushed past her eyelashes without a single stroke of resistance.

She just wanted it to end. Irie had waited long enough.

"I'm here," Kurama whispered, his warm breath washing over her bare skin. If he would have seen the state that she'd been left in, Jin would have raged and yelled and broken necks. She was bruised, bloodied, cut and burned, purple and raw where bindings made of both rope and metal had dug in and rubbed against her ankles and wrists, and bare for the world to see her injuries. In the face of this, Kurama was quiet and perfectly collected.

" _It hurts_ …" she breathed; even that small effort to push sounds from her lungs felt like she was being stabbed in the ribs.

"I know. We'll get you to a hospi-"

"No. You can't. No… no. _Mansion_."

He looked down at her, and even let a crease form between his slender brows. "Are you sure?"

"Curse."

Her eyes fell closed again, but popped right open when a groan came from the other corner of the room. She didn't know where she'd found the strength - hope, she thought, that bastard - but she shifted herself in Kurama's arms until he set her on her feet. Of course, she promptly fell over the second she tried to take a step, but she wouldn't be touched. Every muscle, every inch of skin, every tiny, fine hair on her body burned as she dragged herself to the man on the second board; she had to know. She _had_ to.

She hadn't let herself hope before rescue had been certain because she would have given in to one of the few, tender patches of her heart and spilled every secret to keep him safe. Thinking that he truly was a stranger, dressed up to throw her off balance, was easier, somehow. In the truest fashion she'd ever known, though, the Omniverse had played one of its awful jokes, again, and she let out a soft, strangled sob when she came face-to-face with him.

The mess of a man in front of her had had chunks of flesh surgically removed, or patches of skin flayed away in strips, and his long hair, silver as starlight, dragged on the floor, matted in clotted clumps of blood and water. When he heard a word whispered to him, his face twitched and contorted with the pain of trying to open his eyes, and Kurama's heart caught in his throat. Sure, it could have been in the lean physique, or the silver-white hair, the distinctly fox-ish point of his long, thin nose and chin, or even the grey-gold cast of his eyes, one of which was framed by a faint, vertical scar, but really, it was all in the way that Irie looked at him that made Kurama realize that maybe, _just_ maybe, she had a real reason to detest the sight of Yoko Kurama the way that she did. Whoever he was, he held the sun itself in her eyes.

"Gentoka…?" she whispered.

He breathed with a sharp wince, " _Who are you?_ "

She didn't answer; she reached out and touched his bleeding cheek with a shaking hand. "Oh, your _eye_ …" she whimpered. "Dear gods."

"Glass. Already said that."

He went limp, and Kurama heard a sharp, anguished squeak come from Irie that trampled over his heart. He came forward and gently touched the man's battered chest.

"He's still breathing," he said softly. "We'll get him medical attention, too. I promise." Silence. She didn't fight when he picked her up from the floor, again, she only leaned against him. "Do you know each other?" He wasn't entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Slowly, she shook her head. "He doesn't know me." It wasn't a lamentation of the fact. It was a reminder to herself of it.

"Who is he?" he tried.

Again, Irie shook her head and pressed her face into his neck to hide away from the reality of having failed yet another campaign that she had set for herself.

* * *

When they emerged, Irie had passed out again, and the fighting had ceased: unconscious bodies were heaped in a pile to be dealt with later, and Kuwabara had parked out from in Irie's van just as they all had agreed before, but a very special person in a suit had been beaten and tied up, squirming on the ground.

"You don't know who you're _dealing_ with!" he grunted, struggling fruitlessly.

It earned him a kick to the side. "Shut up," Yusuke ordered irritably. "Damn, if I have to listen to your whining the entire way back to- holy shit, Kurama, is she okay?" He had just seen them, and the girl definitely looked ready for the grave.

"We have to get her back home," Kurama replied. "Irie's orders. There's another prisoner in there, though, and he needs to be taken to an actual hospital."

"I've got it," said Kuwabara. "I'll make sure they don't ask too many questions."

"Southeast side of the building, fourth door on the left down the hallway."

"On it. I'll call an ambulance, too - you guys need the van."

Jin had been in the process of dropping one last person onto the pile of prisoners - which he still did, though it was far less careful than he had intended. His eyes were for their mission objective. "Irie!" He landed next to Kurama and held out his arms, clearly intending on taking her from him. "Hand her over, I fly faster than the contraption drives."

" _Don't_ ," Kurama said, and he cleared his throat when he realized that it sounded darker than he would have liked. "She's quite ill. I've got some emergency herbal remedies that I can administer in the car. Can you make sure that the local Spirit World authorities on this side of the dimension are alerted, and these criminals are handed over?" They could deal with cleaning up this mess.

Jin looked taken aback, but he didn't say anything; he just stepped aside. They both knew that there was something far more going on, but this was neither the time nor the place to discuss it. "... Yeah."

"The one in the suit? Bring him back to the mansion. Lock him in the basement. I'd like to have words with him once she's stabilized."

Words, yes, though it was his fear that he desired.

Kurama loaded Irie into the back seat of the van and sat with her, wrapping a spare blanket from the trunk around her naked body and letting her rest her head in his lap while Yusuke drove them back to the mansion, and it took far too long. But the second they pulled into the driveway, her physical condition started to improve. Enough that when Kurama hauled her into her bedroom and settled her in, he could actually see her proper color returning. But most of the wounds - the ones she'd sustained under torture, he guessed - remained where they were. The tattoo beneath her eye would scar horrifically: a knife had traced its edges and filled in the rest with scores that were already puckering under the fresh scabs.

As he was adjusting her pillow, he heard her murmur, "Is he okay?"

He knew she was thinking of the man they had found with her. "Yes. They called an ambulance for him." Bending at the waist to be near her face, he saw that she had been too weak to hold on to consciousness, and gently stroked her hair and murmured, "I'll be back. Just rest, now." He waited, as if for a response, and his lips barely grazed the edge of her temple as he straightened back up and left.

Locking the door tightly behind him.

* * *

The fluorescent light in the spare storage room in the basement hadn't worked correctly in years, but the buzzing flicker served Kurama very well in setting the mood of terror.

The man in the suit hadn't been beaten or tortured since he was initially knocked out, and Yusuke had been sure to stow him away beneath the false bottom of the van's trunk. It was sizeable enough to fit a fully grown human, which made Kurama assume that it had been used for similar... _projects_ before, and he wasn't going to question it. All he cared was that it was suiting his purposes for today, and that was really the most important thing. In fact, it almost felt like something that he and Irie had in common: parts of them long-buried had once reveled in activities like this.

His captive, tied to a metal chair with his hands bound behind, was starting to come around, and he awoke with Kurama quietly closing the door behind him. "Where am I...?" he grunted, squinting in the flickering light. "Who are you?"

"Those are certainly the most trivial of your concerns," Kurama replied genially. A light smile that didn't reach his cold, glittering eyes played over his lips. "And I think it would be wise to hold your questions until the end."

"The end of what?"

The smile grew just a hair, and Kurama sat down in a chair of twigs and leaves that had grown behind him while the rest of the closet's interior coated itself in plant life. Dusty purple-pink flowers bloomed on the walls and stared down his prisoner, just as vines crept menacingly up and around his legs, anchoring him down, and he started to struggle and cry out.

"Stop this!" he demanded in his panic. "You don't have any idea who I am, I _demand_ -"

"You demand nothing," Kurama said dryly. "And you're nothing more than a worm who enjoys torturing young women."

"My business with her is a matter of global security. _You don't know what she's done!_ Others will come for her, and she-"

His protests broke off into a scream of terror that was quickly silenced by a handful of leaves stuffing themselves into his mouth.

"I don't honestly care about the _why_ ," Kurama said casually. "I have other sources if I were to become curious. And I wouldn't bite down if I were you; those don't grow in our world, and they are incredibly toxic to humans. Now, stop threatening me. Stop struggling. And this will only be as unpleasant as _I_ choose to make it."

He relished in the fact that the closet had been sound-proofed.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** _Oh my God, I did the thing!_ Again, another chapter where half of it has been written for months, I just had to get the rest going. And, not gonna lie, I had a _lot_ of fun writing this one. Thank you so much for your patience, everyone, and I hope you enjoy it!

EDIT: I forgot to mention that I 100% tossed in Gentoka from the Scarlet Fate mobile game. He's honestly not in this story enough for me to consider it a crossover (though I _have_ been toying with using his and Irie's story as a prequel), but I like having him for that sort of ongoing, one-sided tension between Irie and Kurama that's we've seen for several chapters. Also, I've used him in other, non-published works, and since Grisaille is essentially a culmination of other things that I've written privately in the past, I figured it fit the personal theme I had going on for this story.

Thank you to owlloveyou for reviewing! And check out her fics, they're 100% the best!


	12. The Fairy Godmother

_You have invented a new kind of stupid._

 _A "damage you can never undo" kind of stupid._

 _An "open all the cages in the zoo" kind of stupid._

 _Truly, you didn't think this through?_

 _Kind of stupid._

* * *

One bead clicked against another.

 _Promise me._

They were cold against the skin. Once, a long time ago, they had been warm to the touch.

 _I swear three times. I'll find you again._

* * *

Irie hadn't left her room in more than a week, and no one expected her to. After all, it had taken three days for her to simply awaken after she had fallen asleep. They had received word from Koenma that in light of her illness, he would be taking complete control of the project and was unsatisfied with how slowly things had been moving. He wanted more Spirit World people in the mansion to oversee things and even suggested coming himself, but that was where Kurama saw he needed to put his foot down. He knew that Koenma was taking advantage of the girl's weakness and he wouldn't allow it.

Not after the conversation they'd had.

"Wait for another two weeks before you start doing anything so extreme," he requested - it wasn't even truly that, it was an order in disguise. "Irie's recovery is of great importance. It would be in poor taste to simply invade her home without her knowledge, don't you agree? Especially since she's a tentative ally?"

" _Ally?!_ " Koenma huffed, incensed, and Kurama could see the juvenile rage rise on his face through the screen. "She's not an ally, and she doesn't hold nearly enough prestige to be calling any shots, Kurama, she _owes_ me. And I'm cashing in on my debt. I'll give you a week, tops, before we arrive."

The line cut out, and Kurama promptly said, "You don't have to say anything, Yusuke."

"I think I do," he rebutted, glaring. He had been leaning against the doorframe, listening in on most of the conversation. "What's gotten into you, man? This isn't like you."

"Questioning authority isn't like me?"

" _Arguing_."

Kurama got to his feet and calmly pushed in his chair, keeping his face even. "Kaito said he had a new idea for making the portal work the way we'd like," he diverted smoothly. "And he would like to show me. So, if you'll excuse my sudden-"

"Look, buddy, you don't understand what happened, okay?"

"Then _make me_." The challenge was a harsh, demanding one, and some fire flared to life behind his green eyes. But no one would talk about the damned debt that Irie apparently owed to Koenma, only that it existed, and it was driving him mad. How was he supposed to help or decide for himself what actions were worth pursuing if he didn't know?

His friend knew that, too, and it showed in the way Yusuke looked helplessly at him. "... Look, I don't know details. All I do know is that she put Koenma's life in danger. If you want more, you'll have to ask one of them."

 _I've tried that_ , he thought waspishly, but he didn't say anything else out loud. He would rather leave and try, yet again, to find out what had happened in order to better protect the wounded girl just upstairs.

Anytime anyone had tried to visit her, whether it was to tend to her injuries or speak to her, she had almost always been asleep - or, as Kurama suspected, feigned sleep, as she was always upright either in her bed or in her bay window and staring out of the glass whenever it was him alone. She never said a single word. She just sat there. He never minded it, though, and continued to talk in a soft, calming tone as if nothing was wrong.

Today would be no different. After taking a deep, calming breath, he entered holding a wiggy, purple flower in a pot with a gentle smile on his face. "Good morning," he greeted, setting the gift down on her dresser.

No response. She was sitting in her window again, her knees drawn loosely up to her chest while she looked outside, staring out at the sprawling meadow that made her front lawn, all the way to the trees that lined the border of her land. But this time, there was something clutched in her hand: a necklace.

"That's lovely," he commented lightly. "Have you always had it?"

Her fingers tightened on the pendant, but there was otherwise nothing to suggest that she'd heard him.

He sighed a little and pulled up the armchair so that he could sit nearer to her. "You know, Irie," he started, knowing that he should tell her before she found out the hard way, "Koenma's been-"

She mumbled something under her breath, and he quickly turned his head.

"I'm sorry?"

" _Irie_ ," she barely murmured. "It's pretty..."

 _That_ was concerning. His brow furrowed into a frown, but Kurama chose to roll along with it and see where she went. "Yes," he agreed gently. "It means _blessing_ , doesn't it?"

" _I-ri-e_ ," she sighed, sounding out each syllable like it held the weight of the world, and barely making any noise. "So many vowels. That's why I picked it. I liked how it all sounded together..."

"Why _you_ picked it?" he echoed. "You mean your parents?"

She shook her head. "That's not... no." She frowned, and then a look of awful, horrified confusion and realization swept over her face. "I used to have a different one. I knew it a second ago, but I..." She trailed off again, and he could see her struggle to remember behind her eyes. "I've been _Irie_ for so long, and so much of the before is just _gone_ , and I don't remember if it's just part of the rest of it, or..."

The rest of it. Kurama assumed she was talking about her sickness, whatever it was, and it didn't surprise him. He studied her face for a sign of anything other than defeat. Real emotion, perhaps. When she didn't say anything further, he pressed her, "Why did you fall so ill?"

Slowly, _so_ slowly, she turned to look at him with big, glassy, ocean-green eyes, as doleful as a sunfish. Not that he could see it, but she was trying to decide if she could trust him with the story - and if she could trust herself to tell it correctly. "There's a curse on the television," she finally said, her voice low but strong. "One that binds it to me. If I stray too far from the portal for too long, I'll die."

"So..." He frowned, but he wasn't entirely surprised. There had been signs. "When we were in Yukina's domain-"

"Yeah. That stuff I keep telling you guys is for portal-lag? That's what it's really for. It gives me a boost if I find myself stranded too far away."

"How far is too far?"

"... About the end of the driveway." She looked back out through the window. Now that she was talking about something more concrete than simply herself, she was becoming more coherent in thought and word alike. "My time limit's about forty-eight hours, so I can easily go out and get things like packages and groceries, but it's honestly better that I just stay here and tend my vegetables as much as I can."

Reaching out to touch her free hand, he watched her with such concern; the irrational part of him that usually kept its silence was fretting that maybe she was dying, anyway, regardless of the fact that she had been returned to the mansion. She was so pale, still, and so weak.

"Is that why you won't let us take it out of the house?" he asked, but she shook her head. Quite adamantly.

"No. It goes beyond that - my connection is just to the portal. The mansion, on the other hand, is a different story." She was looking down, staring at their intertwined fingers, studying them. Her hand hadn't been held like this in such a long time, and the thought didn't hurt. The pain had been replaced by a numb, resigned sort of feeling, like when she had decided to stop wearing the stupid necklace. "I don't know how it works, but... I've only ever taken it away from here once, and bad things happened. Things that led to this stupid curse because, once again, I was so desperate for someone's approval that I didn't stop to think about the consequences of my actions."

Not a piece of it satisfied the questions burning in his mind; in fact, her explanation only spawned more.

Kurama's thumb had been gently running its edge along the back of her hand. "Will you tell me what happened?" he murmured.

She took a deep breath and held it, counting the seconds while she scrambled to make the decision. Her fingers tightly closed over his.

"It was years ago," she whispered. "When I met _her_. It was just before Nanami and Toriaka left for the Makai, and I... I remember being so _angry_ with them for it. That's when she found me, and she said that she could help me." Her forehead touched her knees, her legs drew in even closer until the thin jewelry box that Kurama couldn't see sandwiched between them and her stomach uncomfortably dug into her abdomen, and she shook, sniffling.

 _You stupid girl._

 _You've ruined everything._

The voices had been blending together for years, now, sometimes the witch's and sometimes those of her friends. She could barely remember the difference, anymore.

 _"_ What was her name?" Kurama asked in a low voice. If he knew, if he'd ever met this demon, then maybe he could-

But she didn't answer. She only sat there, trying to collect herself again before she really lost all sense of self-control and had a complete meltdown. After a moment, she lifted her head again and he could see how red her eyes were, as well as the tears that were drying on the bones of her cheeks. She laughed a little. "I got the necklace from another universe," she told him thickly, attempting a smirk when her gaze met his. She was surprised that she would rather tell him about this than the curse. "To answer your other question. It… it was a gift from a forest god. A white fox."

Her wry chuckle turned into a brief, choking sob that she silenced immediately, and she held it out to him with the soft, string cord still clutched tightly within her fingers so that he wouldn't take it. It was just for looking. The stones were made of brown topaz, roughly hewn into pretty little autumn leaves that were clearly made by hand and certainly not by a professional, but he could feel that it had been made with love. There was at least that much power in it held up by faith and faith alone in the bond that had brought it into being.

"After the mess with Koenma happened," she continued, taking it back to cradle against her heart while her other hand pushed her bangs out of her face, "I couldn't take living here anymore. I knew I couldn't leave the mansion, so I ran away to another dimension. I ended up staying with him for two years before I ended up back here."

"And _he_ was that man that we rescued with you in the warehouse?" he asked.

She paused, frowned, then shook her head. "... No," she murmured thickly. "I mean… _yes_. Technically. He's this universe's version of him. I have no idea how they found him, or how they knew I was looking for him in the first place-"

"You were searching for him?" His- well, not his whole heart, but a piece of it stuck in his throat, and Kurama had to swallow it back down where it belonged. Of course she had been. She loved him in that other world, and who was to say that they couldn't be together in this world?

He hadn't noticed that her eyes had landed on his face again, nor that something on his expression must have given away his thoughts, but the very edge of her lips twitched into the ghost of a smile. "I stopped quite some time ago," Irie admitted quietly. "Despair murders motivation and all that. But this was never going to be the world where we stay together, and especially not after everything that's happened. I mean, did you see him? He's a solid ten years older than I am and I, a _complete_ stranger, am the sole reason why he was kidnapped and tortured within an inch of his life. Any future that we could have had is gone, you see?" She smiled wider and looked away so she could wipe away a tear from her cheek while she chuckled weakly. "I'm sorry about the _Yoko Kurama_ thing, by the way. I… well, _you_ saw."

"I did," he whispered. And he understood. Would he have been any different?

"He looked a lot like you in the other world. The ears, the tail…" There was a lingering _but_ on the end of that phrase that she hadn't said, and he wondered what was going through her mind. Then she said something that he hadn't expected. "A-and I'm sorry... about Jin. I d-don't-"

His lips stopped hers dead in their tracks. She had just admitted to being in a love that transversed entire dimensions and he did it anyway because he knew that she would kiss him back. He could feel the topaz stone brushing against his neck as she cupped his jaw and pushed her fingertips into his long hair just as certainly. Of course she would apologize for Jin. He wouldn't have, in her position.

It was enough that they were sitting together now, arms wrapped around each other and letting their breath drown out the world.

He only reigned himself in when he felt her flinch away from the touch of his hand. Some wounds had been too aggressive and he shouldn't have tried in the first place to test his boundaries. This wasn't the time. Even so, she held him close enough to press her head against his shoulder and hear his heartbeat - if he had had one, anyway. But the lack thereof didn't seem to perturb her.

"They're going to come after us again," she murmured after so many still moments. "And they won't nearly be so easy on us."

 _Especially now that one of their executives has mysteriously turned up missing. Odd_. "They won't touch you," he replied, running his long, delicate fingers through her hair. "We won't let them."

"What if you don't have a choice in the matter? What if they manage to hurt you first? You know Koenma won't allow you to make that big of a scene, it would draw international attention." Irie shook her head and stared down at the necklace. "I have an idea. But I… I think I'll need your help for this one."

He canted his head just so to one side and combed his fingers through her hair. Her bangs were starting to grow too long, and she'd started pushing them off to one side. "On one condition: no more secrets. I need to know everything."

"I can't pro-"

"Irie." Kurama's voice was firm and insistent, but the way he took her by the chin and forced her to look him in the eye for once held all the gentleness he needed. "I'm serious."

There was the tiniest flicker of mistrust that crossed her expression. He had always played the long game - hell, he'd played some longer than she'd been alive.

But he knew he'd picked the right moment of weakness. He'd won. "... I need to see Koenma. There's someone in Spirit World and only he knows where she is, but I… I need her. She can help me get out of this for good."

"Who? The woman who cursed you?"

The hold he had on her wasn't strong enough to keep her there when she pushed herself from the window's seat and crossed the room in only a few steps, pausing in front of her vanity to gently put the necklace back in its box. "... her name when I met her was _Toyotama-hime_ ," she told him. "You've met her - or a version of her. Gothel, from Rapunzel's universe. In our world, she is being held in the Spirit World prison."

He frowned but remained seated. "What makes you think that she'll be of any use to you?"

Irie only shook her head again. "Nothing. But I'm going to try, anyway. It's my best idea."

"Out of how many?"

"Three or four. None of them are great, I'll admit. I wasn't the brains. Masanori was the smart one. I was just reckless."

When her hand twitched so violently that she knocked a bottle of perfume to the floor, he finally stood up and found himself behind her with his hands resting on her upper arms. "Alright," he murmured quietly, wondering why it was that he always seemed to pick the fragile humans to care for. "I'll take you to Koenma tomorrow. You need sleep before then."

"Thanks."

He sat on the edge of her bed while she crawled under the covers with her back facing him. When he moved to leave, she caught his hand and tugged, making him pause.

"... Just for tonight," she whispered, and he could see her green eyes peeking out at him from just above the thick comforter. "Please?"

In an instant, Kurama was sitting up beside her with his legs stretched out on the bed, stroking her hair. It seemed to calm her; he could feel her rapid, fluttering pulse slow, at any rate, and she let out a soft, long sigh. Had the other one soothed her this way? _Gentoka_ , he chided himself silently. He needed to stop thinking of him as some inhuman other - well, yes, he hadn't been human, but that wasn't the point. He wasn't a threat. Jealousy wasn't becoming.

He took an odd sort of satisfaction in knowing that he was the only one who could have watched her all through the night like he did.

* * *

Irie wasn't a hand-holder, though that was fine by Kurama. In fact, they cut quite a professional pair as they walked into Koenma's office side-by-side. He had called ahead to let the prince know about their impromptu meeting; oddly enough, Koenma had accepted without protest.

She calmly sat down in the chair on the other side of Koenma's desk. There was no need for the pretense during this meeting, no need for bowing or scraping or groveling to get what she wanted, and that part was the most concerning for Koenma. She was either being very arrogant or planning something very stupid. Most likely the latter, given her track record. Kurama alone remained standing, nearer to the door like some sort of servant present to watch over his mistress while she was on dangerous ground.

How far the mighty had fallen.

"What can I do for you, Ms. Endo?" Koenma insisted, watching her with cautious eyes. He didn't want to beat around the bush anymore than she did.

"I want clearance to pay a visit to the Spirit World prison," she replied.

They exchanged a long look that Kurama tried his best to read; questions, answers, indignations and accusations, and he could only catch a few of them. _Are you insane?_ seemed to be Koenma's favorite, and they both knew something that went beyond the seemingly simple request.

"... That'll be breaking about half a dozen laws," Koenma reminded her, and Kurama knew he wasn't only speaking of the visit itself.

There was an idea formed, a plan hatching, and he was infuriated to realize that he'd been left out of it.

"I know. And I've already accepted the consequences." She shrugged and then gave him a world-weary smile. "Isn't this where it was all heading, anyway, Koenma?"

He waited quite a while before he sighed and closed his eyes, smiling lightly back. "I guess it was," he allowed. He sounded... beaten. "Okay. You know what you're doing better than I do."

"Thank you."

"I have one request in return."

"Three guesses what it is," she sighed with a wry smile. She opened the clasp on her bag and pulled out a sealed file, one that Kurama hadn't realized she'd packed, then handed it over to Koenma. "This is a copy of the most updated version of my last will and testament. I'm sure you'll find arrangements satisfactory."

The seal tore and Kurama frowned as he tried to read the words - but Koenma adjusted the angle so that he couldn't.

"... I can live with this," he finally replied, peering up from the page. There was genuine surprise in his gaze.

"Good. Because that was non-negotiable."

Koenma glanced at Kurama for a brief moment, and then he and Irie both rose from their chairs in tandem. "Is there anything else you'll be needing?" he asked. "An escort, a guard detail?"

"No," she said with a smile. "That will be all. Thank you, Lord Koenma."

"I'm not going to say it's been a pleasure. But good luck."

She nodded and left the office with Kurama. The pair of them remained silent the entire walk until they had left the building, and only then when they were waiting for their escort back to the world of the living did he take her hand and squeeze it.

"What exactly do you want out of this person?" he asked.

She tried to dodge him with, "Don't worry about it."

"Listen, if you think I'm going to go with you without information-"

"I _know_ you're going to go with me because you wouldn't let me go alone," she shot back, looking defiantly up at him. After that first second, it softened. "Besides, I don't think I could do what I need if I didn't have you there."

" _Irie_." He cupped her face by the cheeks in both hands and turned her so that she was facing him, and his stern expression was mixed with concern. "You promised that you would stop keeping things from me. _Tell me_ _what you two are planning_."

She sighed and put a hand over one of his, leaning into it like a cat. "It's complicated. I'm not even sure what I'm expecting. I'll let you know when I figure it out."

~~~ _Six Years Ago_ ~~~

She didn't know how long she'd been running, or how she'd gotten outside so quickly, she just knew that one moment she had been inside and overhearing words that broke her heart and the next, sprinting beneath the stars and over the grass.

 _"Don't tell her, okay? She'd flip if she knew."_

 _"She'd probably start begging us to take her with us."_

 _"I'd really rather not have that conversation with her."_

They were leaving. And they were leaving her behind.

Irie made it to the edge of the river and collapsed to her knees, clutching herself about the middle tightly when she finally let herself sob. Her tears dripped uncontrollably into the water while her anguished howls were fierce and close enough to make ripples on the surface. She felt like her head was going to explode. Everything she had ever heard told her that crying and "letting it all out" would make her feel better, and instead, it was making her feel worse. Irie cried out her bitter, bitter envy and then felt sorry for feeling that way in the first place. She was sad that she couldn't be happy for Toriaka and Nanami and it gave way to anger with that… that _thing_ they always talked about. That prince. The creature who was taking them away from her.

" _Oh, no_ ," a voice cooed softly behind her. Immediately, she straightened up and clapped a hand to her lips to stifle the sounds, looking up. " _Don't cry, pretty fish_."

Irie would have gone slack-jawed if she wasn't too busy feeling sorry for herself because this was the single most beautiful woman she had ever laid eyes on. An impossibly long sheet of hair tumbled down to the hem of a regal junihitoe in various shades of blue, where a silver-and-gold embroidered dragon twisted over the kouchigi, surrounded by delicate accents made to look like fish and seaweed. The lady was crowned with pale blue coral dotted with pearls and tiny shells that matched her many rings and heavy earrings. Her eyes were smiling sadly down, drawing Irie's gaze well away from her clothing.

"Sweet child," the woman purred, kneeling down gracefully beside Irie, "What cruelties brought tears to thy lovely eyes?" She lifted a hand and gently caught another droplet that had broken past the eyelashes.

Irie cast her gaze down, flushing deeply. "I-i-it's nothing," she dismissed on an impulse, trying to wipe away what tears she could with the edge of her sleeve. "I'm j-just… b-b-b-being silly… F-f-forgive me, lady."

"No troubles are silly," she cooed and gently drew her into her arms to hold her close. "Come, dear, tell me."

"I... I..." She sniffed, trying to keep herself under control, but it failed, and she started to cry out her entire story. " _My friends are demons and Prince Koenma is letting them go to the demon world and I don't think they're coming back and I'm being left behind. I have no special powers. I'm just... I'm just a stupid human, and I'm useless, and they hate me."_ She pitifully wiped her tears on her sleeve again. "If I had special p-powers, they'd see I'm not useless. And they'd want me to come, too."

"Of course," the woman said softly, "Of course, child."

"I don't know what to do…" Irie wept pitifully. To be held like that, like her mother hadn't since she was a child, that seemed to make the tears flow more freely.

"Hush, little one." The woman held her out just enough so that she could smile down at the young girl, her brown eyes so gentle and twinkling like the softest candlelight. "There's no need to be in such distress. I can help thee."

Her eyes widened and she straightened up taller. "R-really?" Her heart leaped to her throat; it couldn't be true. This was too good.

"Of course." A pair of warm, soft lips pressed themselves to her brow. "Do not worry about a single thing, my little fish. What is thy name?"

Irie quickly scrambled backward and kowtowed before the kneeling women, such was her gratitude, and eagerly gave up her given name.

"Well, my child, thou may know me as Toyotama-hime. When I've finished with thee, thy friends will beg thee to join them."

* * *

What an idiot she'd been. She wanted to blame the folly of youth, but… but she had been an extra-special sort of stupid to take that bargain.

When Irie told Kurama the story, she had pared it down a bit: a goddess, so she thought, had offered to train her and make her worthy of joining her part-demon friends on their journey to the Makai. In the end, it turned out quite differently, which was a part of the story that she left quite vague. What she outright didn't tell him was that her name had not yet been _Irie_ \- not that she could recall what it used to be, anyway.

She wasn't even sure that she was remembering the tale correctly.

"Clearly, she wasn't a dragon goddess," Kurama commented as they walked down the foggy, winding path down to the Spirit World prison. It had been designed to detract and distract potential escapees, but they'd at least been granted a map. "So who was she?"

"A demon. Not even a particularly high class, either, and one who used to be human. Jealousy is what attracts her, and I had it in spades."

"I see."

Their conversation stopped short when they finally reached the massive, hulking gate of iron that led the way into the canyon that served as a prison for apparitions who hadn't died, but who Spirit World had deemed too dangerous to be allowed to roam around and run amok. A pair of large, heavily-muscled ogres guarded the entrance and glared down their snouts at the two who dared approach.

"What's your business here?" one grunted.

"We have clearance from Prince Koenma," Irie stated firmly. "Endo Irie and Kurama. You should have been called."

"Right. You're looking for-?"

"Hashihime. Would you be kind enough to tell me what cell she's in?"

The other one shrugged and jerked his thumb over his shoulder as the giant gates began to open with a loud groan behind him. "Block J, Row Four, Cell Two."

"Thank you." She bowed and immediately set off at a powerful, purposeful trot that Kurama had to catch up to. He wasn't accustomed to her walking so fast.

The "cells" were nothing more than holes gouged into the rock faces of the canyon and blocked off with either bars or large, circular stones rolled in front and locked with paper wards. Some of the prisoners were visible and most of them largely ignored these two visitors who stunk of the human world, but others gave Kurama a dark look. They knew who he was.

Irie disregarded every last one of them, focused entirely on her mission. "... Block J," she muttered to herself. "Row One… Two… ah, Four. This one, Kurama."

It was one of the warded stones that blocked their way. Irie gripped it by one side, perfectly prepared to roll it out of her path, but just as she tensed her muscles to push, she froze. Then, she started shaking, staring at the weathered rock.

Kurama gently touched her shoulder and inadvertently made her aggressively flinch. "It's okay," he told her. "I'm right here. Nothing's going to happen to you."

She just took a deep, shuddering breath, steeled herself, and shoved the door away.

The creature inside was certainly not what Kurama had been expecting: a wizened hag who may indeed have once been beautiful crouched on a small boulder that served as her chair, her long, white hair hanging in oily curtains on either side of her face. An iron band around her head held three long, flickering candles whose flames grew another inch when the demon saw who was intruding upon her solitary penance. A cracked, toothy grin split her face and gave way to a creaking laugh.

Irie calmly knelt on the floor before her, spine as straight as a steel rod and expression as cool and expressionless as Kurama had ever seen it. "Do you remember who I am?" she asked.

"Little fish," the hag purred. "'Tis been some time, but how could I ever forget? Did I not curse thee to live out thy days tethered to that insidious, infernal machine?"

"You did. However, I've found loopholes."

"Of course. Slippery thing." The dark eyes, black as coals with burning embers within to match, landed on Kurama and brightened still more. "And I see thou hast acquired a little fox-pet. Be he thy familiar, or does he simply do tricks at thy command? Dare I say it: bedfellow?"

Kurama's eyes narrowed dangerously, but just as he opened his mouth to speak, Irie interrupted him.

"He has no business with you," she coolly reminded the hag. "But I do."

"Oh?" That seemed to amuse Hashihime, and her grin somehow managed to widen even more. "And what business would that be?"

Without missing a beat, Irie replied calmly, "I want to collect the debt you owe me from six years ago."

Of course, the hag began laughing so hard that she nearly tumbled from her rock. "Thou speaketh of _debt_?" she cackled ominously. "Thou art the reason for my eternal, damnable imprisonment!"

"I am," Irie allowed. "I also delivered Koenma to you just as promised."

That made Kurama's eyes leave Hashihime for just a moment and flicker to Irie.

"And yet here I be, empty-handed and cursed to waste away in this wretched place."

"That's not my problem."

"You did _what_ with Koenma?" Kurama tried to mutter to Irie, but she didn't reply.

His question had been overheard, and the candle flames leaped high into the air. "Ah, so the little foxling doesn't know of thy betrayal?" she oozed. There was no other way to describe her tone of voice. "Does he also not know of the gift for which thee wished in return for thy service?"

"He is _not_ involved," Irie growled, showing the first trace of emotion since entering. "Leave him out of this and grant me what you promised."

"'Twas such a tall demand, little fish," Hashihime replied airily, shrugging and turning her palms to face the ceiling. "I require something more of thee to grant thy wish."

Irie deadpanned. "Which would be…?"

The grin turned positively wicked in the shadows cast from the fire. "Thy soul. For me to torment and play with for all eternity after thy death."

"Irie, _no_ ," Kurama said hastily, leaning forward to mutter in her ear. "You don't know-"

"I am sick to death of people telling me that I don't know what I'm doing," she sharply interrupted, raising her voice; when she turned to look at him, though, her expression was clear and calm. "Kurama, while I appreciate your input, I have to ask you to wait outside."

This time, he actually glared. "Of course I won't-"

"Oh, I mind not if the fox stays to hear the terms of our agreement," Hashihime informed airily. "For instance, would you prefer the gift to remain in the same shape as the last time we made this pact?"

"No," Irie replied quickly before turning back to Kurama. "Please-"

Her hands had found his and were clutching tightly. He searched her expression for something - anything that promised him that she would tell him what was going on later, that she wouldn't make this decision, that she would be _smart_ for once.

He only saw some of the things he hoped for. They were enough for him to eventually rise to his feet. "... I'll be waiting just outside if you need me," he told her. "Come and get me the second you think you need to."

"I will."

He left just in time to hear what he knew Hashihime wanted him to: "Well, child? What form shall it be?"

"... a fox."

His heart skipped a beat, and the stone slammed shut and separated him from the two women.

Once it righted itself, his pulse quickly sped up as he stood stock still in front of the door, staring at it. Waiting. Any moment now, and Irie would be out and away from that creature.

Any minute.

Any second.

Kurama had no idea how long he stood there, or when he started to pace back and forth, back and forth, looking for something to do with himself while he waited. What was taking so long? What were they _doing_ in there? All of the possibilities ticked through his head and drove him absolutely mad - and when he heard the soft _thump_ on the other side, he was so quick to act that he actually managed to pull a small muscle in his leg.

"Irie-?!"

She was gone, and Hashihime was chortling gleefully on the ground with a cloudy, russet-colored smudge against her mouth. Before his eyes, she seemed to be growing younger: her hollowed cheeks filled out and rid her skin of wrinkles, her hair darkened until it was a thick, inky, midnight black, her wizened hands plumped back into lovely, nimble things, and her voice smoothed over entirely.

"What's wrong, little fox?" she chuckled, now sounding like silk rather than grating flint. "Have you lost sight of thy mistress?"

There were spots of black on the stone in front of her that reeked of both iron and Irie. Blood. Just like the mark on her mouth.

His eyes hadn't been so icy when he faced down the executive. "Where is she?" he asked quietly.

"I've sent her back to that miserable place of hers," Hashihime replied. "Fear not, Bandit King, for she is perfectly fine. Mostly."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course I do. We could all smell it on thee the moment thou stepped foot through the gate." Her chuckled turned into a lip-bitten hum, and she turned on her boulder to lie on her back and gaze slyly at him upside-down. "Thou hast truly fallen far if a weak little human girl is thy mistress."

He crouched on the floor in front of her so that they were practically nose-to-nose. "Tell me what you've done to her, and I won't cut your tongue out and feed it to you," he said in a low, gravelly tone that he hadn't used since the last time his hair had silvered.

"She never told thee of our pact, did she?" The coo was maddening. Was this her power? To be infuriating?

Was she the one who taught Irie to run around in verbal circles?

"I don't care," he lied easily, but she must have either seen through it or didn't care to follow his conversational lead.

"I was alone for so many years after I turned into a yokai," she murmured, turning over so that she was right-side-up once more, unperturbed by his closeness. "And one day, I saw the most handsome young man standing on my bridge. I knew I had to have him, to be with him, to live with him at my side, but alas: he was the child of a god, a prince. Fulfilling my desire would take _work_. But lo and behold, one night, I heard the cry of a jealous little girl, and there was the answer to my prayers. Of course, I couldn't show her my true form, but she would trust a goddess, would she not? Our little fish unloaded all of her silly sorrows unto me. Oh, I couldn't believe it! A girl who could grant me access to my lord-love, himself? I offered to grant her powers to allow her to remain at the sides of her friends, ever their faithful little lapdog. Truly, such loyalty should be admired. How foolish. All I wanted in return was a chance to meet this Prince she spoke of."

"She said you cursed her," he put in; he hated that this was the way he had to learn about these things. How hard would this have been to discuss with either Irie or Koenma?

Probably extremely.

"'Tis true," Hashihime agreed with a light nod. Locks of her long hair had lifted, completely unaffected by gravity, and had started to float around him like the wide-berthed threat of a possible cage. "She had told stories about her magic machine that sent her to other worlds. I admit I was curious. I bade her to bring it to me, and wouldn't you know it let out the most _absurd_ noise that made the blood drip from my ears. I was incensed; she knew about it and had the nerve to bring it in my presence, anyway. So I cursed her to live with that maddening sound for the rest of her days. She begged my forgiveness, I mulled it over - I reminded myself that my love was more important than some stupid human girl. So I granted her absolution.

"Though, it was not to be. See here, they decided to humiliate me. The girl and I arrived on the agreed-upon date, and where was my beloved prince? Nowhere. They tried to tell me that a child still wetting himself was he, and they revealed me for what I am: not a goddess, but a lowly yokai. I was captured and sent here while my faithful pupil groveled and wept and begged for leniency from the infant. I'm glad to see that she was also punished."

" _What. Did you. Do?_ "

He'd had enough. Enough of Koenma, enough of Hashihime, enough of Irie's past and the grudges that were still being held - it was all inconsequential. And now she had made some sort of deal with a demon, and who knew what it was?

"Flee to your mistress, Yoko Kurama," she chuckled, amused by the way he had grasped the front of her tattered robes. "She be back in that infernal home of hers - well, part of her will be. It depends on thy definition."

Kurama threw her to the ground in his haste to scramble to his feet and dash out the door, leaving her behind to howl with laughter that left a ringing echo in his ears. One that nearly made him ignore the ringing of his communicator.

"What is it, Yusuke?" he asked brusquely. "I'm a little tied up at the moment."

" _Dude, you'll want to get back here_."

"Why?"

" _Wasn't Irie supposed to be with you?_ "

"Is she there?"

" _Yeah? I think? I'm pretty sure."_

 _What?_ "She either is or she isn't, Yusuke-"

" _Kurama, just get your ass over here - shit, she's waking up."_

He couldn't remember if he'd ever been nauseous in his life before this as he blew past the guards and off into the mist.

* * *

"Irie?"

Kurama had nearly knocked the door clean off its hinges when he burst through the front and saw most of his friends collected in the parlour, half of them with drinks in hand and all of them with very serious expressions when they saw him. None of them said anything, but Chuu pointed Kurama in the direction of the kitchen. He could hear soft voices coming from within.

"... _completely_ illegal, you know."

"I know."

"I'll have to tell Koenma about this."

"He already knows. He gave me _permission_."

"Does he also know you're an idiot?"

"If anyone _doesn't_ , I'll be surprised."

"Yeah, well…" Yusuke sighed and then appeared in the doorframe just before Kurama could turn in. He could hear her. She was right there. She _sounded_ fine, but was she?

"What happened?" he asked quietly, completely unconcerned with how angry Yusuke looked.

He huffed. "Ask her. It ain't pretty."

" _Thanks_ , Yusuke," Irie called out dryly, but Kurama could hear the note of apprehension. "... Just send him in. Get it over with."

"Get _what_ over wi-?"

He stopped just inside the kitchen. She smiled.

"I've never seen you look thrown off before," she told him.

"He has good reason," Yusuke yelled back on his way to the others; Kurama would want the moment alone.

It wasn't her sitting at the kitchen table. It was her voice, it was her grin, and yes, it was still her tattoo beneath the eye, but the rest of the person looking at him _wasn't_. The hair had grown long and gone from a deep auburn to a softer, more gingery shade, while the once-green irises had yellowed. Most notably, a tall set of black-tipped, pointed, furry ears poked out from the top of her head, twitching in his direction while a bushy tail flicked idly at her side, draped casually over the edge of the chair.

"... What have you done?" he breathed, the crease between his brows deepening.

She held his gaze more steadily than she ever had before. "I told you," she said calmly, "I needed her help. Like this, I can easily take on the corporation and end the madness."

"At what cost?" he snapped irritably, taking another few steps toward her.

"Kurama, I've wanted this since I was sixteen-"

"A child's fantasy! You didn't have to do this, I could have helped you-!"

"And gotten even _more_ involved in this stupid battle that I've stirred up for myself." She was standing, now, and he could see that she carried herself taller than before. Her tail bristled. "If you think I would let them have a chance to do to you what they did to Gentoka-"

"Who is a human in this world," he reminded her sharply. "I'm not-"

"And neither am I, now." She closed the gap between them and cupped his face in her hands to draw him into a deep kiss, a far more daring gesture than he knew she would have performed before. His hands found her hips and stayed there when she parted from him and murmured, "Now I'm like you. Well, more like you, anyway."

"... I loved you the way you were," he whispered. He hadn't anticipated that this would be the circumstance for him to use that particular word.

Tilting her head, a sad shadow crossed over her face and she asked, "Do you still?"

"Of course I do," he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "I just can't believe you did this to yourself."

When she and Hashihime had spoken of bestowing a _gift_ , he had no idea that it would take the form of turning Irie into a yokai.

* * *

 **EDIT:** Holy crap I hadn't realized that I'd repeated entire conversations in this chapter. It should be cleared up, now!

 **Author's Note:** I had this almost completely finished a month ago, and then my phone glitched when I opened the doc to edit it and deleted half of it. I was literally so irritated that I couldn't bring myself to look at it.

But then I read the new chapter of my favorite fanfiction by **Owlloveyou** and gathered the gumption to finish the damn thing :D

Anyway, when I started this story, I didn't actually think I'd take it here. But I have! And we're getting close to the end!

... oh God, I have to figure out the ending.

Anyway, special thanks to my lovely readers, particularly **CassieL** , my beloved **Owlloveyou** , and a guest, all of whom left reviews. Thank you all so much for sticking with me through this beast!


	13. Damaged

**Author's Note:** I realize that I jumped the fucking shark on the last chapter, and now I'm trying to make it up to you guys and make the plot make sense again. Thank you to everyone who left reviews/followed/favorited! I love you all so much!

* * *

 _Yeah, we're damaged,_

 _(Badly damaged.)_

 _But your love's too good to lose._

 _Hold me tighter,_

 _(Even closer)_

 _I'll stay if I'm what you choose._

* * *

A long, gingery tail tipped in white draped itself over the edge of the blue, embroidered quilt and lazily flicked its end in a silent, steady rhythm. Having a fifth limb was bizarre and Irie still hadn't become accustomed to it, but she liked that she could use it to fidget more efficiently. The addition wasn't nearly as strange as having her ears moved to the top of her head. They were constantly moving with every tiny sound they picked up, and there were _so_ many more of them, now. For instance, though he had his back turned to her, she could hear the way every single button wedging itself into the appropriate hole as Kurama put his shirt back on. His deliberation fascinated her.

"Are you still angry with me?" Irie asked, frowning.

Kurama sighed and decided against having the top two buttons fastened. "You know I am."

"You're going to have to get over it eventually."

"I think you underestimate how long I can hold a grudge."

A pair of hands grabbed his hips and she was suddenly holding herself against him from behind. "You were fine enough last night," Irie said, nuzzling between his shoulder blades. "And this morning."

Kurama grasped Irie's hands and turned around. In the days that had followed her change, he had been prone to giving her this same look, like ice and fire had married into a bitterly cold flame flickering in his eyes. He was always trying to see the human girl past the demon. "There's still pleasure to be taken in angry sex," Kurama murmured. After a moment's consideration, he relaxed a bit and gently touched her cheek, his thumb stroking the black mark of her tattoo. The scars had healed rapidly and were nothing more than thin lines just a shade or two lighter than the rest of the ink. "I just wish you were still human, that's all."

"I don't." It was the same snort and childish smirk as it had ever been.

"Why?" Kurama asked.

Now she moved _away_ from him, crossing the room in two graceful steps so she could sit at her vanity and preen while her curtain of hair covered her bare back from his view. "I don't have any reason to," she told him pointedly.

His stern glare returned, burning into the back of her head. Leaning against the door with his arms crossed over his chest, Kurama said, "Don't you have a life to live?"

"I'm both a college drop-out and a hermit living on a fortune I've amassed illegally. I don't have a job, a family, or much of a social life, and not only do I have one of the world's largest conglomerates baying for my head so much that I had to change my identity, but I've also managed to piss off the royal family of Spirit World on multiple occasions. What kind of a life did you think I actually had in front of me?"

Kurama's feet went cold and clammy and the sensation threatened to move upwards and infect his entire body. _Had_. He didn't like the way she said it. "You have me."

"With or without demon blood, I have you." Irie turned around in her chair with a carefully arranged, level expression. "And I've lost lovers before." Which brought up another round of insecurities that nibbled at Kurama like mosquitoes.

"I think you'll find I'm a little harder to kill," he said. A dark, guarded expression fell over her, but she hadn't yet learned to control the emotions of her tail, which bristled and beat angrily once against the stool as she faced the mirror again.

"Did I hear Kaito right? He thinks he _actually_ figured out how to get you boys to the Makai this time?"

"So he says," Kurama replied. "We're doing a test run this afternoon."

"We? You're going, this time?" Again, her tail twitched.

He replied, "Yes. I'm still technically heading the project, according to Koenma."

"Well, then good luck," Irie said, binding her hair up into a pair of high buns. "I'll be there to see you off."

At first, Irie had roamed the mansion as she normally did, but then increasingly stayed in her bedroom as she picked up on the general mood of the group. Koenma's team was collectively uncomfortable. Disturbed, even. They glanced at Irie warily and did the same to Kurama when she wasn't around, judging her by proxy because none of them - _none of them_ \- would have entered a blood pact with a human, or freely associate with one who had. Yusuke, Kaito, and Kuwabara, still uninitiated in all the ways of the demon social world, weren't entirely sure what it was or what had happened. All they knew for sure was that Irie's change was unsettling.

What the rest of them understood was that a very real taboo had been broken. They were waiting on their toes for the sky to come crashing down in retaliation.

Everyone was gathered around the television while Kaito made his adjustments to the set. He'd made more progress than Irie ever had: it showed _images_ , now. Glimpses into other worlds. Sometimes, they would catch themselves watching the same one for hours, captivated by the goings-on of the residents. A world where Keiko was a Spirit Detective instead of Yusuke, one where humans and apparitions had swapped places, another where the outcomes of coin flips were opposite and dozens of others.

Today, the plan was to finally reach the Makai. Once through, Jin, Rinku, Touya, and Chuu would stay while Yusuke, Kurama, and Kuwabara attempted to return to the mansion.

"I think I'm on our frequency, now," said Kaito. He backed up so that the crew could clearly see the screen while he punched buttons on the remote, and they saw the pale blue and red interior of a Spirit World office. "... Yeah, that looks about right. And if I flip to the next one, then... ah! There!"

The hazy, red horizon of Makai came into view, peeking through the purple-black trees of a forest that Kurama recognized. "Good work," he said to Kaito, face set into a grim smile. "Now we can-"

There was a rustle from the speakers, and a waifish figure with tall ears and a familiar stance dropped from one of the trees and glanced around. She was smiling, looking around for danger, then got to her feet and turned around. When her gaze lifted, though, another familiar face swung down from a tree branch overhead and stopped her with a mischievous grin.

" _Found you_ ," that world's version of Yoko purred. Irie squeaked and bolted off in the other direction with a laughing, foxish chatter, and Yoko alighted from the branch to give chase.

"This is not the Makai we're looking for," Kurama muttered under his breath, reaching over to change the frequency while the remote was still in Kaito's hand. The new scene was almost identical to the last, but for one exception: this time, Hiei was slowly walking through the forest, wearing a yellow scarf with a very specific white dragon embroidered onto the front that Kurama had instructed him to have. It was a sign that this really was the place they wanted. "There. This one's good."

"Let me lock down the channel," Kaito said.

While he was jotting out the number, the doorbell rang.

Everyone looked about, and Yusuke asked Kurama, "... Were we expecting anyone?"

"No. Not that I'm aware."

After the debacle with the forged invitation, Kurama was more paranoid about checking the door. Irie must have felt much the same way the first day he and Koenma had come to call.

Kurama peeked out the window curtain and saw a thin young man standing at the door, hands in his pockets and looking mildly annoyed, but otherwise unconcerned. Kurama thought he recognized his face, especially with the glasses.

"Hello?" he asked when he opened the door.

A pair of silvery-blue eyes squinted suspiciously at him. "You're Toriaka's fox-friend? Karumo, or something like that?"

"Kurama," he corrected. "I'm acquainted with her, yes."

"Yeah." His voice was high and soft, almost effeminate, but brusque. "Where's Irie?"

"Who's asking?"

"Masa!" There was a thundering sound down the stairs and suddenly Irie had flung herself around the poor man in a flurry of ruffles and russet-colored fur and held on to him for dear life.

" _Down_ , poodle," Masa grunted, but when Kurama saw his face, there was an amused glimmer in his eye. "I did you the courtesy of grabbing your mail. I see you're taking it taped to the camels, now."

There was a sleek, blue envelope clutched in his hand that made the hair on the back of Kurama's neck stand on end. Irie ignored it in favor of squeezing the life out of her best friend. Masanori hadn't changed much since his portrait was painted. His hair was still short, though it was black, now, instead of blue, he still wore glasses over his silvery-blue eyes, and the long, thin line of his nose still curled upward at the end. His expression was still less than impressed, but he hugged Irie nonetheless.

"What universe did you go to to get _that_ done to yourself?" Masa asked Irie when they pulled apart.

One ear twitched, and she nervously rocked her head from side to side. "... the Spirit World prison."

" _Excuse me?"_ The confidence a demon's body gave Irie evaporated under Masa's stern look. His lips were pressed together in a tight, fine line that made it amazing he could speak at all. "Spill."

Irie started relaying the story. The shame bloomed on her face a little more with every word, starting on her cheeks and spreading to cover her entire face, neck, and ears in redness. She knew how it sounded. There was a brief pause in the tale when Masa walked away, but he motioned for her to keep going while he casually put down the envelope, picked up a newspaper and started to roll it. Tightly. He didn't say a single word until she was finished.

"Inari." In breaking out her name, so old that Irie almost didn't recognize it, Masa's voice had gone quiet and chilly. "Can I speak with you in the parlor for a moment?"

"Yeah...?"

They both scurried off to the other room, by which time the others had already gone back to preparing to jump into the portal for what was hopefully the last time. It hadn't become any more pleasant an experience since the first interlude. None of them were listening, or they were at least pretending not to. For the most part, their ears had mysteriously stopped working whenever Irie entered a room.

Kurama's hadn't. He followed behind, hanging back so they wouldn't notice him hovering near the archway.

Once they thought they were alone, Masa started hitting Irie over the nose with the paper rolled-up, using it to punctuate each following word. _"You literally did not have to do this! You have the perfect shit for this upstairs!_ "

Irie recoiled, her arms over her head to shield herself from the light beating, and she spat out, "Like _what?_ "

"Like the fucking pe- _"_

 _"Like the fucking pen_ ," Irie echoed, her eyes growing wide with understanding. "... ohhhh, my God, I'm such an idiot."

"This is why you were the muscle, not the brains," Masa groaned. He pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged it. "I'd honestly ask if you'd jumped shark if… no, you know what? Did you find a great _white_ to jump off this time? How much of this plan do you actually have thought out?"

Irie said indignantly. "All of it!"

" _Inari._ "

"Alright, I have, like... seventy-five percent of a plan. Which is why I asked you here, by the way."

Masa threw up his hands. "Listen, I love you and I always will, but I'm not getting involved in this kind of shit anymore. I'm not walking in there with you."

"No, I know. I know. I'm not asking you to, I just..." Irie looked at her feet and fiddled with something in her pocket, eventually drawing out a small, brass key. She looked at it for a long time, not meeting her friend's gaze. "I need you to keep something safe for me."

"That's not the mansion key," Masa said cautiously, the dimple between his brows deepening. "Is that-?"

"Jelly Bun. Yeah." Irie held the key out to him and forced a smile. "If something happens to me, I want to know that he's somewhere safe. I've got instructions and everything written down, the binder's labeled and right next to his tank in the lab. The rest of the mansion's going to someone else, but I... I want Jelly Bun out of the way, you know?"

There was another question on Masa's face, and they both glanced at the doorway. Kurama realized that they'd known he'd been there the entire time. When they looked back at one another, Irie gave Masa the smallest nod.

"What are you going to do now that you've remembered the pen's an option?" Masa asked

"I'm not sure."

"Kurama." Yusuke's voice went over the sound of Irie and Masa talking, and the hand on his shoulder pulled him back. "We're leaving."

Kurama looked back into the parlor where Irie and Masa were openly watching him while they whispered. "... Okay," he replied. "I'll be right there. Just one moment."

Before he could call for her, Irie was rising so she could come to him. Masa had demurred away, and even Yusuke retreated back into the room with the rest of the crowd so that the two of them could hug it out.

"I'll be back soon," Kurama promised her. The anger from the morning had melted away, leaving behind the one emotion with which Kurama was least familiar: fear. He sighed. "Please tell me you'll still be here when I get back."

"Of course I will," Irie mumbled against his chest. "I'm not quite done with you yet, Kurama."

"Nor I with you." He kissed the top of her head and nuzzled her hair. "I l-"

"I know," whispered Irie, cutting him off with a smile. "Me, too."

"You're going to let me say it one of these days," he warned quietly. _Before you do whatever it is you're intending_.

"Mm, perhaps." She lightly fingered the collar of his shirt, refusing to meet his gaze. "Go on. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back. Just be careful."

"I always am." Leaning down, Kurama kissed her with as much affection as he could transfer and they both walked into the living room.

The second they stepped into the room, a heavy tension descended around them. Furtive glances skittered across to Irie, who returned them with a challenge on her face. Only Jin gave her a smile, but that had lost its warmth. Kurama felt an oily, unkind sense of gratification that he didn't like, knowing that he was part of the reason for Jin's sudden coolness.

Jin did hug her, though. "I'll see you around, girlie," he said.

"Yeah." Coming from both of them, it sounded like an empty promise. "Thanks for the flight time."

"No biggie."

It was the most awkward hug that Kurama had or would ever see.

Irie also said her goodbyes to the others, who at least granted her the courtesy of looking her in the eye. Yusuke tried to, as well, but this time it was Irie who ignored him. She chose, instead, to perch herself on the arm of the armchair and watch Kaito.

"How'd you get this working, by the way?" she asked.

Masa called from the other room, " _Someone got the damned thing to work on command?"_

When Irie retreated back to the parlor to rejoin her friend - it occurred to Kurama that Masa was abjectly refusing to enter the same room as the portal - the rest of the gang started to file into the television, one-by-one. Kurama made sure that he was the last one in, casting one more look over his shoulder to see Irie across the hall. Only when she smiled in his direction did he finally force himself to leave.

The pudding-like atmosphere had thinned this time. Walking and listening were easier, and speaking probably would have been, too, had he opened his mouth. It felt like he made it through to the other side in half the time. Was it because the Makai was so close to his own world? _Some dimensions are perpendicular_ , Irie had explained to him and Kaito once _, Not parallel._ Which made about as much sense as anything else.

Kurama had learned the best footing for exiting the mire and touched the ground on the other side with ease. The others had figured it out, as well, and were clumped together while they waited for him. Amazingly, the portal also stayed open, just as Kaito had promised.

"I'd call that a rousing success," Kurama said to Yusuke, whose lips were pressed together in a thin line. He wanted to say something while they were alone, another dimension away from the girl, but before he could, Kurama said, "I'm going to check in with Koenma and let him know."

"I'll meet you back at the mansion," Yusuke said. "I want to get to moving out as fast as we can." Kurama held back a moment and narrowed his eyes. Yusuke rarely sounded so careful when he spoke.

"... Stop treating her like a criminal," Kurama said.

"Stop defending her like she isn't one. If anything goes pear-shaped, you'll be the first one I call."

When had _that_ happened, Kurama wondered? When did the feet between them turn into kilometers?

 _When was your pride so easily wounded?_ a nasty little voice muttered in his ear.

He turned away not just from the thought but from Yusuke and began the short journey to Spirit World. He knew the way well enough.

Hiei caught up with him, the smugness radiating out with every step. "I told you you were spending too much time with the humans, Kurama."

"I do seem to remember you saying that, yes," Kurama replied. "And I still don't recall proving you correct."

"Urameshi made it sound like you let a human girl collar you."

"I've done no such thing in any connotation of the phrase," Kurama promptly said. "And you know, you might benefit from exploring social relationships for yourself, Hiei. Your friendship with Yusuke and Kuwabara has done wonders for you, hasn't it?"

"Partnerships that I make are mutually beneficial."

"Sure."

"... For the record, I'm questioning your taste in humans," Hiei said after a moment. "Anyone foolish enough to enter a blood pact with a low-levelled youkai isn't worth the time. They're short-lived."

"It seems to be a running theme for the ones I bring into my life," Kurama agreed. "First my mother, now Irie - I have a type."

"'Fragile' isn't a type, it's a death sentence for your sanity. Do yourself a favor and choose someone better next time."

"I will keep your unsolicited advice in mind, Hiei, thank you."

Kurama wouldn't look for sympathy with Koenma, either. He was avoiding a painful truth about Irie, and Koenma would try to make him confront it. So when he walked into the office, the air took on a sudden frigidity that would have sent a pox of goosebumps down the arms of lesser men. The wedge between them was clearer and far harsher than the one between Kurama and Yusuke.

"Your portal is working properly, thanks to Kaito," said Kurama.

"Good. It's been long enough." Koenma wasn't smiling, but there was a note of relief in his voice. Straightening a stack of papers, he added, "You and your team are clear to vacate the premises effectively immediately. Botan will take care of the rest for me from here."

"What will happen to Irie and the mansion?"

"Nothing. Ms. Endo has given me rights to use the portal as I please, and-"

"-and you have backups for when - not _if_ \- she dies."

Now, Koenma eyed him shrewdly. "... Kurama-"

"Don't."

"You need to get out of that house."

"Only if she goes with me," Kurama said stubbornly. " _Alive,_ and not on Spirit World's blacklist." Unwilling to argue the point any further, Kurama was quick to leave, or would have been if two people hadn't been blocking his way.

"He's right you know," said the one; she was pale and had catlike eyes tinted a striking, kindly blue. "That entire plot of land does things to the mind, demon or human."

"Nanami." Kurama took a step back to allow her and her companion through. "And Toriaka. It's been quite a while."

"In human years, maybe," Toriaka said. There was a teasing note in her voice, but a serious look over the rest of her expression. "What's going on with the old mansion?"

Neither of them had aged too much since Kurama had first met them, but no one would have guessed that they were once human. Unlike Irie, they had come into their demonic heritage naturally, and carried it a little better. Toriaka was a fox, like Kurama, and perhaps was the inspiration behind Irie's decision. Granted, there were several fox-like creatures in her life, but Kurama didn't want to assume that he was the reason, himself. Nanami, on the other hand, was sporting whiskers and the snowy-white, brown-striped tail of a tiger. Both of them had learned how to keep their extra appendages under control and could probably hide them if they were in half a mind to, like Kurama.

"Koenma has been having me lay the groundwork for his semi-hostile takeover," Kurama said with a cold smile. "You both look well. The Makai seems to be agreeing with you."

"Oh, yeah." Toriaka squinted at him; he remembered that she used to wear glasses - Nanami, too - but her change in biology seemed to have negated the need for them. "... Have you been living there?"

"The Makai?"

"No, the mansion."

"That's what 'laying the groundwork' entails."

"Obviously," Nanami replied. Her smile was kind, enough to soften her words. "You've got the look about you. Are you finishing soon?"

He huffed irritably through his nose. "What do you mean, _the look_?"

"Like you're going insane but haven't quite figured it out, yet. Like Irie." When Kurama shot her a look of anger and befuddlement, Toriaka gave him a pitying smile. "You know that feeling you have that you're hurtling through space at an exponentially growing pace and can't move? All you can do is stare ahead? You're not really sure where you're going or if you're going to stop? That's what the power of that place does. It gets to a point where you suddenly realize that you're _not_ going to stop, you're just going to keep going until you either burst or fizzle into nothing. Pulling yourself out's pretty easy, actually, once you figure out you can. Irie chooses not to. If there was ever any help for her, it's long gone."

"And what did you ever do?"

Her hackles rose, but Nanami was the one to reply, placing her hand on her friend's shoulder. "We tried," Nanami said. Her voice had quieted, and her eyes gleamed. "But she's pigheaded and likes to wallow, so she refused. There's no help for someone who doesn't want it, you know that."

Kurama turned around to leave. There was a vaguely familiar obstinacy set deep in his bones and he wasn't sure where it had come from. Toriaka and Nanami sounded so reasonable and it annoyed him. That, too, he couldn't place. They didn't try to stop him as he escaped from Koenma's office, for which he was thankful. The second he found a deserted hallway, he stopped to lean against a wall, close his eyes, and take a deep breath. His thoughts had been stirring around like dust motes, but the solitude and crisp air settled them. For a time.

 _Pull it together_ , he hissed to himself. _Damn it, Kurama, pull yourself together_.

It was hard, though. All he wanted to do was go back home - and _home_ had somehow turned into the mansion in his mind, with its sprawling grounds and the noise of Buttons running around with the peacocks, Kuwabara and Yusuke training in the garden, and Irie making coffee in the kitchen. He was sure that it was that last part that had completed his connection. People he cared about - the woman he cared about - made it home.

Kurama took the more traditional route home via Spirit World, rather than the portal. He didn't feel like walking through the pudding mire for a second time if it could be avoided, and he wanted fresh air.

But when he stepped out of the cab that took him to the winding driveway and started trekking to the estate, he could feel it: the house's atmosphere weighed down on his head and shoulders like a sodden cloak and only got worse the closer he got. By the time he was through the threshold, his thoughts were so numerous that he couldn't pick out individual ones. They formed a low buzz in his brain that made it difficult to concentrate, and he didn't like it. Losing control wasn't his style.

 _You haven't quite figured it out, yet._

Maybe Toriaka was right: perhaps that was the reason his fuse had shortened so dramatically over the last few weeks.

His stomach bottomed out so suddenly that he was sure he was going to vomit, but he didn't. Nanami was right, too. He needed to get out of the mansion. They _all_ did, Irie included. He only hoped that she would listen to him. If she was as far-gone as Nanami had said, then it would be like pulling teeth. Humans were creatures of habit, and changing those habits was pushing a boulder up a hill. He'd been difficult to convince, himself, and he hadn't been living there nearly so long.

Yusuke, Kuwabara, and Kaito were gone, and several boxes were lining the foyer. Apparently, they had started packing while Kurama was with Koenma, and already began moving out. Kurama sniffed both Irie and Masanori out to the attic, but he stopped when he heard them from the other side of the door. It didn't sound like a conversation he should break his way into. Irie was sniffling pitifully, with Masa trying to soothe her with soft words.

"... I just- just wanted to thank you, you know?" Irie said. "For everything. For being my friend, for... for putting up with me all these years."

"Oh, you stop that." Irie mumbled something incoherent, to which Masa then replied, "Are you sure? I can't talk you out of it?"

"No."

"Your new boy-thing's not going to be happy."

"I know. But... but he's going to have to be collateral damage. I fucked up a _lot_ of people's shit, Masa, and I don't know how else to make it right."

"You two do _not_ have a healthy relationship, Naa-chan."

"Again, I'm aware. Most of my relationships aren't. All the better, right?"

"Jesus, you're still dramatic as ever."

They both broke into laughter - nervous, frightened, laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation and half a dozen other reasons, for all Kurama knew. He had sunk to the ground, leaning against the door while they spoke. _Collateral damage. Unhealthy relationship. All the better_.

A sickening sinking feeling infected his stomach. He had a good idea of what Irie's seventy-five percent of a plan was.

He wouldn't get to confront her until later, though. Masa left, the tank wrapped in duct tape and tarp as its disguise and packed away into the trunk of his SUV. They weren't worried. Masa knew how to stay under the Seiyu radar better than Irie did, and it smelled of a different sort of deception to Kurama. Exactly what, he couldn't quite place.

"It's hard to believe he used to live here, huh?" Irie said fondly as they watched the vehicle roll down the extended driveway. "You're probably used to thinking of me being all alone out here."

"I am," Kurama said. He had pulled out a chair to sit on while the other two had said their goodbyes, one ankle crossed comfortably over the other knee. "But you've gotten accustomed to having people around again. It's good."

"Yusuke and the rest of you have mostly gotten everything moved out. The mansion will be empty again soon enough."

The whisper had caught in her throat for a quick moment, then righted itself with a smile. She approached him like it hadn't happened and placed her hands on either side of his face. "What's wrong?"

Kurama looked up at her, delicately catching one of her wrists so she wouldn't move away. "... I know what you're planning," he told her after a moment, and her soft titter angered him.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. And I won't have it."

In a quick motion, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in close. Too tightly, too much, but it wasn't enough. They wouldn't be alone like this again for too long and when the others returned, he would have to hide his misery better than by stifling it against her.

"Ten years," Kurama pleaded into her stomach as her gentle hands buried themselves deep into his soft, red hair. "Ten more years, Irie. You're a demon, now, it'll go by..." _Like a blink_ , he finished silently, twisting the emotional dagger deeper into his gut. Not enough time for him. But perhaps it would be enough to change her mind about going on a suicide mission.

"Kurama," she said insistently, "It'll be okay. I know babysitting me's all you've done since we met, but you'll see. The sooner I finish this, the better."

"What can I say?" Kurama clutched her tighter, balling the back of her shirt in his hands. God, she didn't _get_ it. _He_ didn't get it, but at least he wasn't cowering away like she did.

 _Unhealthy relationship unhealthyrelationshi-_

He batted away Masa's impish nagging. "What can I do?"

"Nothing."

Slowly, he stood up, and her hands moved from his hair to his shoulders and then finally rested on his chest. He knew she could feel a pulse pounding under her palms, the human one that both was and wasn't his. Was she thinking about how she now lacked one? Did she even care?

The cool, unabashed way she studied him was answer enough.

An angry, demanding urge swept over him, not unlike the one that gripped him when they were alone in her bedroom. Giving in was tempting, even pleasurable. _Do it, hurt her, break and set her in a splint of your own design. Make her pliable. Make her cry._

 _Stop that_ , another part of him snapped. He _could_ recognize the mansion's influence now that he knew what it was. Without knowing, he had already started to obey the unbidden thought and shifted into the image of silver-haired Yoko, but Kurama caught himself before he could say the words that wanted to form on his tongue. The effect was still great, though. Irie immediately pushed back from him, craning her neck and staring into his yellow eyes before tearing away from them. She still couldn't stand it. Holding on to the grief kept the memories real.

"Don't," said Irie, her voice trembling.

Kurama gracefully tilted his head to one side and snatched her arm a bit too tightly, his long nails not quite pricking her skin. "What?" he asked her. "You were fine with this when it was the other world."

"Those were different circumstances," she whispered. "Necessity."

" _Look at me_." He grasped her chin with the other hand and forced it upward, willing her to see him. She had an intriguing way of looking at something without actually taking it in, particularly her own reflection, but he wanted her to find the differences: the shape of his mouth, the shape of his eyes, the power lying beneath his taut muscles, the ferocity of his desire to drag her out of harm's way. "I am not your god," Kurama said. "I'm a living, breathing reality. If I am what you choose, then there isn't a force in any reality that will stop me from being with you, especially not a handful of pathetic humans who think themselves the puppeteers behind world powers. But you have to choose _all_ of me, and you have to choose living. I won't be with someone who walks into a lion's den and doesn't want to walk back out." The image he had seen of them in the forest of the Makai came back to him and settled like a moth made of candlelight in his heart. He kissed her, tugging her by the waist to the couch so he could pin her down and cage her in with his limbs and the satin sheet of his hair. She had gone rigid at his touch, so unlike her more recent responses, but he wasn't perturbed. Kurama murmured, "Come to my world with me."

"No," was her immediate response. Another habit. A reflex.

"They won't find you there. We'll stay just inside the radius of your portal until we learn how to break the curse, and then we can go wherever we please."

"They'll hunt down my friends, then," said Irie, face set in a grim helplessness. "Just like they did my family."

Another lie to confess. But in his mild delirium, Kurama ignored the revelation and brushed her bangs out of her face, then said, "We'll let Koenma deal with it. You don't have to martyr yourself."

"It's not martyrdom if you deserve it."

"Youkai don't think in terms of altruism or self-sacrifice, Inari." She flinched when he said the name. It was a slap in the face to her, or a bullet in the knee. A long-dead thing that shouldn't be used. "We want power, food, blood - and when we're content, we like to watch the world burn."

One of Irie's forearms had curled around his bicep and now her hand twitched over the muscle. "... I'm not like that," she said.

"No?"

"I still think I like Shuichi better."

"Really." It wasn't a question, and it came with a wry smile.

"You're _not_ a god, Yoko," said Irie, putting emphasis on his name to separate him, to keep Shuichi and the real Kurama different entities. "You're the Bandit King. You don't know contentment."

"While _you_ are the living embodiment of stagnation." The tip of his nose rolled and nudged up the length of hers, leading him to press his lips tenderly to her forehead. "You could teach me satisfaction, and I'll show you how to move forward."

That would do it, he knew. Irie couldn't say no to him, not when they were so close and he was so blatantly exploiting her secret weakness for foxes and the love she still harbored for Gentoka: to his delight, the way she stared up at him made her look like the human girl, again. Kurama should have done this ages ago.

A twinge of self-revulsion marred his pleasure because he also knew he wouldn't have done it without the mansion's influence, no matter how desperate. He would regret all of it later.

Irie swallowed and did something that surprised him. She said, "I have to go. I have to make them stop coming after my friends."

"Koenma-"

"No. _Me_. I started this, I have to finish it. I'm still human enough to know I owe them that much." Again, Irie wove her fingers into his hair, down to the scalp so she could hold him. Her eyes shimmered conspiratorially. "And when I'm through with those bastards, you and I can go wherever we like. Within reason."

There it was. Victory in the form of compromise. Smirking, Kurama snickered and suggested, "If we kill Hashihime, we can throw reason to the wind."

" _You're_ asking Koenma for that favor, not me."

Their laughter was dry with one remaining note of sincerity. Kurama felt lighter already. He was put at enough ease to playfully run his fingers up the side of her stockings and beneath her skirt until he felt the bare skin of her thigh, and his kiss was entirely without anger or frustration. Triumph roared in his chest, satisfied with his coaxing. Irie would _stay_.

Kurama could burn the mansion down and laugh about it.


End file.
